A Different Kind of Magic
by Miss Avis
Summary: AU – With the whole of the school believing him to have put his name in the Goblet of Fire, Harry knew he had to face the upcoming trials alone. Then belief came from the most unlikely source Harry wouldn't even consider. Said source was now regretting about being honest.
1. Chapter 1

**OooOoOooO**

AN: Sorry, I've been fascinated by this pairing lately. So I decided to share an idea with you. Not really original in terms of timeline but I hope to make it different from here then on. You might find though that it _might_ focus solely on them but I tend to broaden it to other characters too. Just wanted an opinion. Thanks.

_Please enjoy the story!_

* * *

**Chapter 1: Hate and Confusion**

Harry paced angrily further at the edge of the lake.

The announcement of his name from the Goblet of Fire happened two days ago. Ron, who had been angry and somewhat jealous of his "entry", had avoided him like a plague. This was understandable. His friend had dreamt of entering the competition. And with his low self-esteem issues carefully hidden but now rearing its ugly head, jealousy had accosted the redhead. The only problem was that Ron was too stubborn and vainly ignored the rational part that their friendship stood on. Hermione, on the other hand, had been too confused and undecided on what to believe and that had hurt Harry more than he realized. She was an intelligent witch and had known him for almost three consecutive years. Yet, his tendency to do the unlikeliest and recklessness in terms of dangers and hazards had quite drawn the line of proving her perplexity.

So far, he had avoided everyone as much as he could. The negative attention was unbearable unlike on his second year–where he had his friends. He hadn't spoken to anyone for fear of outright retaliation and shunning. Harry didn't even know if someone out there believed him. Even Dumbledore was confused and somewhat taken aback by it. Most students were calling him a cheat, a glory-hound, or an attention-seeking liar.

He really hated it. At the same time, he needed to get out or simply an _out_.

Originally, he had been on his way to Hagrid's hut but then he saw Ron and Hermione on their way there. Harry had changed tracks and went to find a secluded spot near the edge of the lake. He hadn't been here before and he found the stillness of the water to be quite exquisite and calming. After his encounter with Malfoy before he got here, he had been so furious that he would like nothing more than for the blonde ponce to show up so Harry could curse him through next month.

Wanting to vent his anger some more, Harry picked up a large rock and chucked it to his left by the lake.

The water exploded into torrents of sprinkling shower. Harry heaved out a little in exhaustion–the rock had been heavy–and proceeded to feel satisfied as he imagined Malfoy's face in place of the surface of the lake. It made him feel better.

"Potter, if you don't mind, take your pity party elsewhere." A voice growled and from its tone, it wasn't a request but an order.

He whirled around and turned to where the voice came from–to his left, he realized with a wince–and stared at the raven haired girl whose scowling face was dripping slightly with water. Lake water, Harry realized.

His sheepish emerald green met her irate honey-gold eyes.

Then his gaze landed on the wet front of her robes, to be precise, on the soaked green and silver colors with the crest of a snake–a Slytherin. Instantly, the boy was on guard as he stared warily at the girl, forgetting that he was the reason why she had gotten drenched. Idly, he recognized her as one of his classmates. Daphne Greengrass. It was kind of hard to even recall who she was since she rarely joined any feuds Slytherin were quite known for in his three years of study in Hogwarts. That's why Harry wasn't sure what to make of her since this was their first confrontation and conversation–which her first words were for him to go elsewhere and angst.

And that brought Harry's initial anger out–more than he'd let on.

"Well, where am I supposed to go? Everybody hates me because I _supposedly_ put my name in the Goblet." As her face darkened at his demanding tone, he mistook it for something else. "What? Also going to gloat about how I'm an attention-seeking bastard?" He growled, livid, and the rational part of his mind was gently admonishing him about venting on some girl he hadn't really known.

Her scowl deepened as she glared at the boy.

Harry just returned it with his own scorching one.

"Look, Potter." The girl started slowly. "I don't care where you go as long as it is far away from _me_. You're self-pitying makes me sick." Her jaw clenched at his outraged expression but she cut his protests off. "And I _know_ you didn't put your name in the bloody Goblet–Dumbledore may be old but powerful and I don't doubt it. Besides, your genius 'idea' of staying out of the spotlight seems kind of moot when you are the bloody Boy-Who-Lived!" She had yelled the moniker, her fingers obviously twitching for her wand.

The boy gaped at her.

No one had admitted that they believed him. This girl, who barely knew him, had stated that she was _extremely_ sure that he hadn't done it. And had been accurate about deducing how he felt about his fame.

"You believe me…?" Harry breathed out, dumbfounded and slightly suspicious as his eyes narrowed.

"Besides," She continued as if he wasn't gawking at her. "Many competitors die in this tournament and whoever decided to enter you is either an idiot who believes in your myth or a madman who wants you dead. Now _go away_." Honey-gold eyes glared at him irately as she wiped her face with the sleeve of her robe.

Harry paused.

He hadn't thought of it that way. He had been so preoccupied about his illegal entry in the tournament with no way out–through the binding contract–that he had neglected to investigate at what could be the purpose of anyone to put his name in.

Certainly, no one would think he was that good enough to survive through the competition. But the one where someone wanted him dead made a lot of sense–it wasn't really anything new now that he thought about it. With three consecutive years in Hogwarts, all of which someone always wanted to kill him one way or another.

Looking back at the girl and meeting her deadly glare, he felt a little guilty about not making a good impression. She had helped Harry to focus on the right thing about this tournament and her belief–with a hint of insult–had deeply soothed him since he became enemy number one to most. From the way she was seated near the edge of the lake with a blanket spread out underneath her, it was obvious that she had been here for some time and was first to arrive here; later witnessing his tantrum. He winced at the last thought at how immature it had been.

There was also the fact that she was a Slytherin.

But even with neutrals from the house, they clearly sided with Slytherin House as a united front and therefore, the general belief it had taken no matter what period of time.

It was about mocking Harry Potter this time and how he had cheated to get himself into the tournament.

And yet, this girl had honestly stated about she _knew_ it hadn't been his doing.

Now, Harry contemplated what little he knew about Daphne Greengrass. She had dark hair that reached below shoulder blades, a petite but definitely feminine figure, honey-gold eyes that glared at him, a small pointed nose, pale skin, and a generally pretty face that might look more beautiful if she stopped scowling. But it wasn't those things and information he was aiming for about her. He never saw her with Malfoy or Parkinson or anyone from Slytherin, never heard a single insult from her directed at Gryffindors or him, and barely even saw her. That's got to take an effort to stay inconspicuous. Like what he had been trying to do all this time.

"Are you quite done now?" She snapped at him, bringing him out of his musings and not even knowing how big of an impact she had impressed upon him. "You can make yourself scarce now." She stated lowly but not pompously, as if she was urging him to just do it and be done with it.

It was obvious that she didn't like him _but_ didn't outright hate him for no other bigoted reason based on the Slytherin House's belief.

Instead, feeling some of the Gryffindor courage he had in him, Harry walked deliberately to the girl and stood in front of her. His green-eyed gaze stared down at her–which obviously bothered her–and met her suspicious honey-gold orbs.

Harry did the unthinkable and held his hand out to her.

A Gryffindor and a Slytherin.

"I'm Harry Potter." He stated simply and calmly. Though inside, he was nervous at what he was doing in the first place. Aside from the girl being a Slytherin, he didn't even know why he was bothering to begin with.

Daphne seemed to think so too since she just eyed his hand distrustfully.

She looked up at his eyes deeply, searching, but still with a healthy dose of suspicion. Harry knew why–she was a Slytherin and the 'Golden Trio' didn't tolerate them because of a few scumbags that didn't deserve to be in the house; namely, Malfoy and his posse. Harry knew that the house valued cunning and ambition but Malfoy certainly lacked it in spades.

More like for the blood purity beliefs, most likely.

"Daphne Greengrass." The girl stated but didn't shake his offered hand.

Harry reluctantly pulled it back and felt a bit stupid about expecting her to just grasp and accept it.

Even so, he sat down on the blanket beside her.

The girl glowered at him.

"What part of making yourself scarce _don't_ you understand, Potter?" She growled furiously as she instantly scooted away from him.

"I think I like myself here just fine, thanks." Harry said steadily and smiled at her a little slyly. "Besides, I'm not welcomed back in the castle anyway." He shrugged unconcernedly as he made himself comfortable.

"Do I look like I care?" She scowled at him, a little usual of her, Harry realized. "This is _my_ spot and I want you gone, _now_." She emphasized by making a large shooing motion with her hand.

Harry pretended to look around him and searching for something. For a while, Daphne looked confused.

"I don't see any "Daphne Greengrass' Property" plastered anywhere." He quipped back with a raised eyebrow, finding some amusement as he saw her obviously ruffled. "So I can be here as long as I want and as much as you are."

"You bloody arse, I ought to hex you–"

"Then do it." Harry stated flatly, his face blank as he waited for the Slytherin to go through with her threat. It would determine how he would see the girl as a person even from the house of snakes.

For a while, Daphne appeared like she would but she just stood up.

"I know you're not exactly famous in my house but you're _impossible_." She gritted out of clenched teeth then rudely tried to pull out the blanket underneath him. She tried but it wouldn't budge since Harry's weight made it impossible.

"Many had said so." He nodded in mocked sympathy.

"Don't push it, you prat. Get the hell off!" Daphne stated a little loudly as she made a last attempt to retrieve the cloth.

When the boy didn't attempt to move but instead laid his back down on it, Daphne finally had enough.

She brought out her wand quickly and pointed it at Harry who tensed and was about to bring out his wand in retaliation but the spell was already on her lips.

"_Aguamenti_." She murmured just as a jet of water shot out of the tip of her wand and splashed the raven haired boy exactly on the face.

Harry instantly stood up and sputtered, then stumbled back as a triumphant Daphne Greengrass finally pulled the blanket back to her from under his feet. Her face was an exact picture of smugness before she glared at the boy who was staring at her in wonder as he wiped his face dry.

"What the hell was that for?" He questioned, frustrated and annoyed.

"That was for earlier." She simply said–a reference to the rock Harry threw earlier, no doubt–as she carefully folded it and tucked it under her arm.

Harry noted that he was a good head taller than her petite frame.

She seemed to have disliked that notion more as she put more distance between them. Abruptly, she spun on her heel to do more of that.

"Bye Daphne." Harry stated awkwardly as he watched her leave, not even realizing what he had just called her.

The girl glared over her shoulder.

"It's _Greengrass_ to you, Potter." She growled angrily, her honey-gold eyes glowering at him. "Don't you dare forget that." Her voice then changed into something more serious and Harry sobered up as he understood; they were not friends.

But Harry liked what he saw and mused on how to change that. If not for his sake then for his survival of the tournament, someone who believed him.

* * *

"What the hell are you doing here _again_, Potter?" She questioned harshly with her customary scowl the next day.

He stood at least six feet to her right and overlooking the vast size of the black lake. But the raven haired boy just shrugged and smiled as he picked up a small stone from the ground and threw it farther down the lake. His eyes never left the spot the stone landed on as he breathed in a large amount of fresh air. She huffed and decided that noticing him was just wasting her time–so instead, she brought out her Transfiguration book to do some light reading for their next lesson.

"I didn't know a book was more interesting than me." He commented idly as he glanced at her from the corner of his eye.

Her eyebrow twitched at the arrogance of the boy and continued ignoring him. Though why the words in her textbook suddenly became jumbled and demented figures, Daphne had no idea.

If she would have peered at him, she would have seen his amused expression at her lack of reaction.

"What do you think of Malfoy?"

The question had been asked of her so many times by fellow housemates who were unsure if to side with the blonde pureblood or to remain strongly neutral that she had answered Harry Potter's inquiry without thinking.

"Malfoy is a spineless moron who always runs back to daddy because he was dropped on his head when he was born." She paused as she heard him snickering. As her expression darkened, she realized suddenly what she had just blurted out. "Not that it's any of your business." She settled snidely, glaring at him.

"Not the kind of impression I would have thought to hear from a Slytherin." He pointed out with curiosity, emerald green eyes practically pleading for an answer.

"Have you ever heard the saying of 'ignorance is bliss', Potter? The whole of the Slytherin doesn't tolerate braggarts like him and only his father's power had made sure of his survival in the house. Others act like they agree with him and know what he's blabbing about while some just dutifully act like they don't know and continue as if he wasn't there." She didn't really know why but she felt the need to defend her house's honor from being tarnished by idiots like Malfoy and his goons.

His expression had turned thoughtful throughout her speech as a touch of surprise crossed his eyes.

"So even the blood purity is just an act to be around Malfoy?" Harry quipped back a little scathingly on his part while the girl's face became neutral.

"Most pureblood families believed in it. Not only from Slytherin House, you idiotic arse. But if you are in an institute full of Muggleborns and 'blood-traitors' like Hogwarts, you learn to keep it to yourself unless you can protect your stand." Daphne stated blankly as she closed her book with an audible snap. "You will learn, Potter, that not every battle requires a wand and a spell. But simply how to stay standing by the end when you are faced with who your real allies and enemies are."

"And what are you between the two?" Harry asked simply, averting his eyes from her.

She scowled as she stood up and prepared to leave.

"If it will make my family happy and have a better future, then I'll settle for where I can make it possible." She answered truthfully as she packed up and left.

Both of them knew which side she had chosen without blurting it out obviously. The dark side promised nothing but darkness, death, and fear but the other side would give a chance to people to settle for what they thought was right as their way of living and future.

Daphne would not realize it, but she had just gotten Harry Potter to like her. And he wasn't even aware of it.

* * *

"Hi Daphne!" Harry Potter smiled as he sat across from her at the table.

The girl started in surprise as her head instantly snapped up to meet the person who had surprised her into having a minor heart attack. She took a deep breath before she glared at him, a scowl already forming on her lips. It was only a miracle she hadn't made a noise or else Madame Pince would have kicked her out of the library.

"How many times do I have to tell you to get it through your thick skull?" Daphne gritted out furiously. "It's _Greengrass_ to you, Potter."

"Isn't Daphne your name?" He inquired innocently with a smile.

"I, for one, didn't give you permission to call me by my name just as I will never call you by yours. Stop this childish game and _go away_." Daphne huffed irately as she went back to her Potion's essay due the day after tomorrow.

"Oh, is this another property of Lady Greengrass?" He asked sarcastically as he rolled his eyes.

Daphne noticeably stiffened as she slowly looked up from her work. Her face was unreadable and Harry realized that what he had just called her had apparently struck a nerve.

"Never, _ever_, call me that." The girl demanded softly, her honey-gold eyes grim and firm.

"Oh, uhm, sorry about that." He apologized sheepishly as she shook her head angrily at him and proceeded with her homework. He sighed and brought out his own Potion book and parchments to get his own assignment done.

For a while, only the scratches of quills on parchments and pages of books filled the silence.

The raven haired girl promptly stopped and glared incredulously at the boy opposite from her.

"What the hell are you doing here?" She hissed at him in a frustrated manner. "I purposely didn't come by the lake to avoid meeting your ugly face. How did you even know I'm in the library?"

Harry stared up in surprise, intentionally morphing his face into that of confusion. He had been by the edge of the lake for two hours a while ago with no Daphne Greengrass anywhere near the vicinity. So he had gone back to the Gryffindor dorms and took out the Marauder's map to look for her in the castle. He didn't even know why he had specifically singled her out–he could have gone with Neville who had declared that he believed Harry. But there was just something about this girl that made him want to be around her snide remarks and scowls. He just wanted to know what that something was.

"What are you talking about? I just decided to do some homework in the library and happened to see you. Was it so wrong to want to sit with you?" He asked with a straight face, fighting off the urge to grin at her customary scowl.

"Yes, it's wrong since you keep popping in and out of my time a lot than what was necessary." Daphne looked at him pointedly. "It's incredibly creepy, Potter. We never talked to each other until a week ago and I keep seeing you so much. Now do me a favor and get lost." She pursed her lips in displeasure as she grimaced.

"Are you calling me a _stalker_?"

Harry was honestly shocked as his cheeks reddened slightly. He would admit that he had gone to places intentionally to get to see and talk to her but he never pegged his actions to be remotely close to stalking. Heck, all they had done in those encounters were either exchange scathing remarks or in her case, pretend that he wasn't there. Now that he thought about it, he had been watching her intensely. Partly because he wanted to find out why a Slytherin believed him and mostly to get to know her. He was always a curious person next to Hermione.

If he was perfectly truthful to himself, Harry Potter would say that he was fascinated with what he learned so much about Daphne Greengrass in such a short week.

She was always scowling, even at the smallest wrong things that upset her. She also glares a lot and generally wanted to be left alone not only by Harry but also by the rest of the student population. He also found out from Neville that Daphne held the honor of being in first place in their year, followed by Tracey Davis and Padma Patil, and then Hermione Granger. It was a bit shocking since he had always assumed that Hermione was the best of their year with her book smarts and broad knowledge. And she also had a sweet tooth as he found out that she always carried several packs of Licorice Wands and Sugar Quills in her bag–which she absolutely refused to share. She rarely joined conflicts and preferred to stay in the background. She had a major temper that made him want to annoy her. Oh, he wouldn't forget about her extreme dislike of him. Not because he was a Gryffindor and she was a Slytherin or of his fame as the Boy-Who-Lived but simply she was annoyed by _Harry_. Simply because of him and not due to his status, relations, or other bogusness related to social and celebrity norms.

It was the last one that made it so refreshing after the fame, then the shunning (after his name was pulled from the Goblet and Skeeter's recent article hadn't helped any), the hatred from Slytherins due to his Gryffindor affiliation and feud with Malfoy, and the awe from so many aside from his friends.

Maybe, just maybe, Harry was now willing to admit to himself that he liked Daphne just a little bit. A crush, maybe.

But even then, he was still skeptical about it due to his lack of experience regarding romantic situations and intimacy with others.

"Yes." The girl deadpanned dryly.

"W-What, I mean–I'm _not_ stalking you!" Harry stammered helplessly, completely missing the exasperated amusement in Daphne's honey-gold eyes.

"Then you can go study somewhere else, this isn't the only table available." Daphne gave him the choices available and Harry wasn't ready to choose yet. He liked being around her–being able to annoy her simply by being there, giving efforts to have her attention (which was a new thing since attention was unfortunately always on him), and talking to her made him forget about the downward spiral that had been his life lately. But she's also a Slytherin, they're cunning folks and she could have other intentions for what she did and said.

Harry suddenly straightened as he realized something. It was _he_ who always approached her and not the other way around.

"I think I'll prefer this table." He smiled at her and continued on his essay as if nothing happened.

Her eyes widened in shock as she looked around her. Some Slytherins in lower years were eyeing them and pointing while others watched in confusion and surprise. Somehow, Daphne could hardly care. She never cared before and she didn't see any reason to change that just because of an arrogant prat such as Harry Potter.

She would regret that in a few weeks.

* * *

"So, Harry, I heard about your new… friend lately." Neville commented as they went on their way down the Great Hall.

Surprisingly, Harry blushed lightly. Even he was unsure why.

"How did you know about her?" He questioned quietly as he looked over his shoulder, as if expecting said female to appear behind them.

"The whole school knows by now, even Beauxbaton and Durmstrang can see it." Neville shook his head in slight wonderment. "Harry, you follow her around so much that makes it impossible for other people not to notice." He pointed out with a sly look.

Harry groaned to himself.

"Not you too, Nev. I'm _not_ stalking her!" He exclaimed exasperatedly with a touch of frustration.

"Well, others got the wrong ideas." The other shrugged impishly. "Ron's been apoplectic about it with our other dorm mates and Hermione. 'Harry – and a _Slytherin_!' You should have seen him, mate. If he wasn't so stubborn about the tournament, I bet he would have been in your face the first chance he got about even talking to a snake, much less stalk one." Neville shook his head in silent laughter while Harry grimaced.

"I'm not stalking her." Harry insisted under his breath.

"We'll call it a quest for your healthy interest in her then." Neville stated with a thoughtful look on his face while the other scowled lightly.

"Neville, that still sounded a great deal like stalking." He told him wryly.

"So you admit that you like her then?"

That made Harry freeze in his tracks as he stared at his friend incredulously.

"What in Merlin's name are you talking about?" He sputtered out in slight embarrassment and confusion. His blush would like to state otherwise. "I didn't admit to anything and I certainly didn't even insinuate that I have an interest in her!"

"Harry, it's alright to have a crush on someone." Neville advised gently, ignoring the other boy's stutters. "You're a nice bloke who just found some girl he likes. You've been following her around for almost three weeks now even though she's a Slytherin and that speaks of what you think of her character. You're still fourteen so it's perfectly normal." He reasoned to the other boy just as they paused in the middle of a corridor near the doors of the Great Hall.

All his life, Harry longed for a normal life–quiet school year in Hogwarts, peaceful life as a student and teenager with only grades, detentions, and teenage angst to worry about. And Neville's words had shed some hope in what he considered to be a dreadful year. If he liked some girl, it was perfectly _normal_ because he's a teenager like everyone else. That thought brought a warm feeling to his chest that made him feel almost light-headed. His stay with the Dursleys, fame as the Boy-Who-Lived and exploits during the first three years certainly hadn't made him feel that way.

"Thanks, Neville." Harry smiled gratefully to his friend, forgetting that he had just admitted about his supposed crush.

"No problem, mate." Neville paused as his smile faltered. "See, it's nothing to worry about."

"Yeah." The green-eyed boy nodded in agreement.

Neville grinned in slight triumph.

"So you _do_ like her!" He accused somewhat excitedly.

"W-What?" Harry stammered nervously as he flushed. "I – I didn't…" He tried to deny but Neville was already looking quite satisfied of himself. It was a new thing for Harry since he had never seen his friend so confident about something other than Herbology.

"She's a good person, I've got the chance to get to know her and her sister during our third year and this summer." Neville admitted shyly as he smiled at his friend.

"Really?" The other perked up, glad at the shift in topic and choosing to ignore his embarrassment earlier. "How'd you know her? I only met her by accident." Harry informed sheepishly as he combed a hand through his messy locks.

At this, Neville's expression saddened and became grim.

"Our parents are not the only casualties of war, Harry. It doesn't matter what house you came from if you oppose You-Know-Who." The Longbottom heir explained solemnly as he fidgeted anxiously, evidently not wanting to be reminded of it.

Not knowing what to say, Harry just nodded his head in support to which Neville visibly appreciated.

He wondered why he had ignored Neville throughout his previous years when it had been very obvious how true and sincere he was as a friend.

Just as they were entering the doors to the Great Hall, someone bumped into them quite harshly.

Honey-gold eyes looked up and peered at them, a scowl already on her face.

"Hey, Neville." She nodded cordially to the boy then she caught sight of Harry. "Oh, Potter." She glared at said boy as she tensed. "What are you doing here?" She asked suspiciously as she stared around her.

"I think… I'll go ahead." Neville interjected meekly as he went in the Great Hall. "See you later, mate!"

"Hey Daphne." Harry greeted with a smile, a little shyly this time as he remembered his earlier discussion with Neville.

"It's Greengrass, Potter, _Greengrass_! When will you ever learn?" Daphne growled furiously as she strode past him, completely declaring that she didn't want to talk to him.

Harry, seeing his chance, chose to catch up in her quick strides.

"Well, Daphne seemed much nicer. Unless, of course, you wanted me to call you 'Daph' and we both know you wouldn't want that since it closely sounded like 'daft'." Harry teased lightly at the girl's darkening expression.

He didn't know why but irritating her had become something of a routine to him. It was one of the few bold things he dared to do–heck, he didn't even had the courage to ask anyone out on a date like Seamus or Dean. Yet, there were times that even speaking around Daphne had become an increasingly difficult challenge since words tend to slip through his grasp more and more as the time passed by. Unfortunately, he didn't understand why.

"Fuck off." She snarled.

Harry blinked in surprise at the obscenity.

"Bad day?" He softened his grin.

"What's it to a twit like you?" Daphne grouched irately but Harry knew when he had softened her barriers enough to get her to speak to him. Though, he mused with a smile, he had learned to ignore the name-callings as he got used to their bantering. It was more entertaining than what the population insulted him with.

"Because you know I would listen and care." Harry stated seriously as he gazed at her genuinely.

She paused in her surprise and confusion.

"Potter, I don't know if you were also dropped on your head when you were born." She enunciated each word slowly with a touch of incredulity.

"I'm glad to know I'm appreciated, Daphne." He rolled his eyes in exasperation.

Honey-gold eyes narrowed.

"I told you that it's _Green_–"

"Don't you get tired of saying that?" He inquired with annoyance.

"Don't you get tired of hearing it?" Daphne challenged with a raised eyebrow.

Harry opened his mouth to release a derisive retort when he suddenly grinned at her, mocking her with his expression's triumph.

"Actually, I don't. It wouldn't be you then. So _there_." He finished as he crossed his arms while his emerald eyes sparkled almost mischievously, idly noting that they had just entered the library.

"I'm glad to be of service then, Potter. Now why don't you go with Neville and stay away from me?"

"Sorry, I can't." It would have been believable if he actually sounded apologetic. "I actually needed a favor."

Daphne looked vaguely interested but still somewhat resentful.

"What makes you even think that I will help you?" She seriously sounded offended–it was because of him that rumors now also followed her, that her already low standing in her house had degraded further with the fallout with Malfoy and Parkinson last school year.

"Because I like you." He admitted jokingly, though inside, he was admittedly nervous since he had just honest-to-Merlin confessed. He wasn't even sure about it.

"That will convince me to help you… how?" She frowned at him skeptically, not even believing the admission.

Harry didn't know if to be relieved that he didn't have to explain or miserable that she had not even given it a second thought.

"First task." He simply said.

"Alright," She raised a hand at his obvious elated expression. "Just because I don't want you to embarrass our school and nothing more."

Harry smirked almost smugly.

"That's what you say."

"Do you want my help or _not_?"

He raised his hands in immediate placation before she changed her mind and then grinned at her conspiratorially.

"I need you to help me on how to steal something from a dragon."

* * *

**Thank you for reading.**


	2. Chapter 2

**OooOoOooO**

AN: Thank you for the wonderful reviews. I really love you guys. And I'm sorry if this came out a little late but I had an out of town trip with my family. But I immediately moved to publish this chapter as soon as I got to open the site. Some of you had commented about how this was eerily similar to that of James and Lily. I just realized that after I read the reviews and I admit, I love their story too. I just wanted a different way around the Harry/Daphne pairing instead of the girl having a secret or not-so-secret crush on Harry. I wanted it to develop on both sides and make Harry's feelings genuine instead of a passing interest or crush like with Cho. And I always read how neutral her family was supposed to be so I tweaked a little of her history. Don't be upset but it's kind of what was right vs what you want story. If you get what I mean.

_Please enjoy the chapter!_

* * *

**Chapter 2: Resolve and Courage**

She slammed the book shut in frustration.

What right did that prat have for him to pin this on her? She wouldn't have minded at first but there were only two days before the first task would occur when Potter brought it up. The first task would be tomorrow. And that in itself wasn't very simple to begin with. She had honestly thought that Potter meant for her to help with something basic and _easy_ or at least, within her boundaries.

Daphne wouldn't call stealing from a bloody fire-breathing overgrown lizard as something easy or within her boundaries. Not at all.

Potter seemed to think otherwise.

She might have been the best of their year but she wasn't a fucking miracle worker, damn it.

So far, she had opted in listing useful spells that might work against dragons. Not only from books in the library but also from her extensive knowledge and spells that she remembered from her mother's library. There was the Conjunctivitis Curse (for the dragon's eyes), the Flame-Freezing Charm (to protect oneself from the burning sensation of the flames), a Silencing Charm (to hide his position from being heard), the Muffliato Charm (if the silencing charm failed), a simple Notice-me-not charm, the Confirma Potestatem Charm from a book given by Tracey's mother as a gift (increases the body's agility and reaction time for an hour), and the Surdus Minui Curse from her mother's library (temporarily removes a creature's sense of smell and hearing–usually not preferred since it doesn't have a counter-spell; the victim will just have to wait for it to wear off).

If she was honest with herself, the spells looked like Potter would be fighting a dragon for the task instead of sneaking around it to steal whatever clue the tournament provided. She shrugged, well, at least the prat couldn't accuse her of not helping a Hogwart's champion.

Her fist clenched around her quill as she glowered at the list of spells. She really hated that boy–he just walked in on her life and he acted like he was already part of it. Now, instead of Malfoy and that slug Parkinson slowly 'forgetting' the fallout from last year, they had rubbed it in her face many times and made sure that her standing in the Slytherin House was nothing dissimilar to that of a "mudblood's". Daphne disliked the term very much–because even though her class standing would state otherwise, she never thought herself to be above others in any way, shape, or form. But now, her prowess was the only thing keeping her from falling apart in the social standing her house had based its continuous dependence. Harry Potter's leeching tendency hadn't helped her much and Malfoy's childish abhorrence of him had made her akin to an outcast in her own house. Even Tracey Davis, her usual companion, was now hesitant in interacting openly with her.

She never cared much about her house's opinion as long as they left her alone in her own business. She only went with other things–like having been forced to hang out with Pansy, even just a supporter who nodded at her every word (which she was very ashamed of when Astoria learned of it). In fact, her sister was the only one delighted about the fallout last year and how Pansy had expelled her from the group. Daphne was only glad at not having to be with them but frustrated at the effects it was having in her social life.

As much as she hated to admit it, Daphne also knew that her recent connection to Harry Potter had somehow protected her from her housemate's outright hostility (after all, there were lines that did _not_ need to be crossed). There were many rumors about him (how he killed a professor in first year, a basilisk in second year, and defeated Sirius Black in third year) that made them wary of crossing him. Malfoy only solidified that fact by stupidly antagonizing him with expected retaliations.

That was one of the reasons she tolerated Potter (barely) and never wore the 'Potter stinks' badge being given around the Slytherin House.

She wasn't about to thank the four-eyed jerk though since it might give him an edge in annoying her further.

"You're going to burn a hole through the parchment with that kind of stare, you know?" A familiarly annoying voice stated jovially across from her and Daphne barely held back a jump of surprise at how Potter had sneaked up on her once again.

So she settled for glaring at him.

"Shut up, Potter." She gritted out before tossing the parchment on the desk in front of him. "That's a list of spells, their incantations, uses, and functions specifically written for casting it against a dragon. It's not much but you only gave me two days."

"Are you kidding me?" Potter asked with wide eyes as he looked at her with disbelief. "This was more than I could have thought of!" He exclaimed with awe as he looked at her with obvious admiration which unnerved her deeply.

"Yes, yes." Daphne tried to wave off dismissively. "Surely this isn't the only option you have considered. Many things can go wrong in dealing with a dragon, Potter, surely you must know that." She pointed out impatiently, wanting to just be over this as soon as they could.

Potter paused in his inspection of the spells to look up at her with a glint in his emerald eyes that Daphne failed to recognize.

"Are you worried for me?" He questioned slowly as he leaned forward to stare in her eyes intensely.

"What?" She sputtered out in disbelief and surprise. "Me? Worried for you? Of course not!"

Maybe she had been quick to deny because Potter was suddenly sporting a large smile that exuded such self-satisfaction and elation which grated on her nerves. She might not like the guy but Daphne knew a good person when she saw one–so it would be a tragic situation if Potter died. Despite being an annoyance and a bother, no one deserved to die just for that. Daphne wasn't so heartless as to wish it on any people just because they happen to irritate her.

"If you say so." He shrugged but his tone suggested he didn't believe her.

"So, do you have other plans?" She decided that a subject change was much safer and certainly wouldn't tempt her into hexing Potter silly.

His face sobered up before he looked around for evidently prying ears; then casted the Muffliato charm around them to prevent others from overhearing. She raised an eyebrow, apparently, Potter had done his research.

"Do you remember what you said by the lake when we first met? About why someone would put my name in the Goblet?" When she nodded, Potter continued. "I've start looking into it with Neville's help."

"Have you got your primary suspects?" She asked with interest, not that she cared, but she was curious of who was bold enough to move against the Boy-Who-Lived.

"It's too generalized. I'm not confident enough to say that many people like me in Hogwarts. But there's got to be someone who planned this, my name and the age line–bypassing Dumbledore's defense–there's got to be some specific motive aside from the obvious." He explained carefully as he rubbed the back of his neck uncomfortably.

"From your explanation, it sounds like someone turned up in your suspect's list unexpectedly." She pointed out with a raised eyebrow.

"You got that right." He admitted a little sheepishly. "It was a week ago when Professor Moody made me stay in class and told me how to complete the first task. I asked you that favor so that I could use another strategy and prevent a way from being in debt to him. Normally, he wouldn't be really a suspect since his records are crisp and to the point: he hates dark wizards. A very appealing resume, if you must. But I told Cedric about the dragons and he didn't know about it."

"Alright," Daphne conceded. "Let's say Professor Moody has a motive but how did you find out about the dragons?"

"That's the thing." Harry sighed as he nervously ran a hand through his messy locks. "It was a Hogsmeade visit last weekend and I sneaked out with Neville under an invisibility cloak. I think Hagrid was with Professor Moody at that time but he approached me later on to meet him the night after to see the dragons. It wasn't until I thought about what you said and I asked Hagrid on why he would risk of me cheating to win the first task. He told me that Professor Moody recommended it to ensure my 'safety'."

Daphne frowned in slight suspicion. Easily bypassing his ignorance of regulations by sneaking into Hogsmeade.

"But why would he help you and not Diggory? You're both Hogwart's champion. None of the Professors are even allowed to interfere in the tournament and Professor Moody had obviously singled you out. It could mean either of the two things; he put your name in the Goblet and has some homicidal plan for you or he believes you didn't put your name in the Goblet as he did his best to make sure you didn't die." Daphne debated, not even realizing this was the most civil conversation she had had with Potter.

"And that's the thing I don't understand." He groaned out. "If you look at it from a normal perspective, he doesn't have anything to gain and has everything to lose. With the Headmaster of Durmstrang and Headmistress of Beauxbaton here in Hogwarts, it just doesn't add up."

"We might have missed something." She brought up as she stared intensely at her hands before straightening as though struck. "_Igor Karkaroff_ is the Headmaster of Durmstrang, Potter. How could we miss that?" She asked incredulously as she gnawed on her bottom lip in thought.

Harry looked at her with confusion on his face, not knowing the significance.

"What's this got to do with him?"

"You ignorant _fool_! Karkaroff was a former Death Eater. He was pardoned for his crimes by ratting out some of his fellows. Professor Moody might have suspected him too if that was the case. Karkaroff might be trying to please his way in with the other Death Eaters." She shook her head roughly as her face twisted in disgust and slight repulsion.

"Please his way in?"

Daphne looked at him as if he had grown two heads.

"Potter, he just sold out his 'comrades' just so he could escape being shipped to Azkaban, once Death Eaters gain their motivation, they will certainly be out for his blood." She explained with uncertainty, her face unreadable at the moment.

Harry was about to nod his consent–even at his obvious discomfort of the subject–when he realized something.

"How do you even know these things?" He asked rather bluntly.

Harry knew that most of the students from the Slytherin House were children of former Death Eaters but this was new to him. For as long as he had assumed, Daphne had been one of the 'neutrals' since she never actively supported anyone there–only seldom seen around Parkinson but Harry had not really noticed Daphne until the incident by the lake.

Even though he had labelled Slytherin as a whole, Harry had inwardly considered the neutrals as another side with ties only to their house and nothing more.

Daphne looked at him calculatingly for a fleeting moment before her eyes sparked with realization.

"You keep stalking me and you don't even _know_, do you?" Her brows scrunched up in thought and slight disgruntlement at what she perceived to be his obvious stupidity. For a rare moment, an expression of skeptism crossed her face.

"I'm _not_ stalking you!" Harry immediately hissed vehemently in frustration then he frowned. "Know what, exactly?"

"Just shows how airheaded you are." She insulted soundly and expertly ignoring his offended visage. "Potter, my father was a convicted Death Eater and now currently spending his time with the Dementors in Azkaban as we speak. Has been there for the past nine years." Daphne informed him with no emotion on her face, her voice oddly hollowed as her blank, almost haunted, honey-gold eyes stared into his emerald eyes deeply.

His eyes widened in shock.

He even gaped.

"W-What?" He stammered quietly. "I mean, Neville said, or rather hinted that your parents opposed Voldemort!"

To her credit, Daphne didn't even flinch at the name. But she did swell with hatred.

"Do not speak that vile monster's name!" She growled angrily, her eyes narrowed into slits.

"I'm sorry," Harry amended hastily. "But Neville–"

"I will not say that he was lying but he wasn't telling everything either." She conceded almost grudgingly but the fire of abhorrence in her eyes had not died down in the slightest, if anything, it looked fuelled and driven that Harry's stomach churned in discomfort.

That must have been what he looked like when he thought of Sirius Black last school year.

"So, your father…" He started out rather hesitantly and Harry instantly regretted it because Daphne's eyes were now glittering with bitterness while her face twisted in mirth that did not reach her eyes.

"Not so confident in your association now, are you, Potter?" She questioned rather snidely and her tone suggested that it was rhetorical.

Harry knew it when he messed up.

"No! It's _not_ like that! What I meant was–I just, it was a _shock_, alright!" He admitted rather resignedly. "It's just–you're right. I didn't know."

"That's why I dislike you. You're so thick-headed and rather too trusting. I would have thought that after three years in this school with someone always threatening you, you would have learned by now. And there's also the fact that you're prejudiced just like everyone else, even only to an extent. Remember, Slytherin doesn't always mean dark." Daphne brought up with the darkest glower Harry had ever seen.

"What? I'm not–"

"You were wary of me as soon as you knew that I was a Slytherin. If I were in Hufflepuff or Ravenclaw, you would've thought nothing of it. You would've just assumed that I was like any other student." She pointed out with an odd expression on her face but it was far from pleasant.

"Look, it's just that Malfoy–"

She shot down his argument with a rather hard look.

"I'm far from blind, Potter." She cautioned him rather severely. "And that's a rather bogus excuse. Slytherin certainly does not literally mean Malfoy. You judge our house based on that stupid braggart. Now that you even knew of my father, you became unsure. Hesitant. Insecure. Doubting. While I may not fault you entirely, you were starting to look at me based on my father." She sneered slightly at his wide eyes, too stunned to defend himself from his excuses.

His eyes were gleaming with an almost desperate emotion she could not recognize nor would she care to even try to recognize.

"_That_ is why I will never like you. You're no different than everybody else."

Abruptly, she brought out her wand and willed her materials into her bag even though messily.

Harry was so surprised that he just sat.

As Daphne left, he felt a rather foreboding and sinking sensation in his chest. One that made him want to curl in guilt and just scream in anger and frustration.

* * *

The next day during the First Task at November 24th, Harry couldn't even bring himself to be elated at Hermione's support.

His conversation with Daphne the day before kept replaying within his mind. Had he been just another bigot who was prejudiced? Did it make him similar to Malfoy? He frowned as he realized that _yes_, he had been. Even with neutrals, he had labelled them as 'Slytherin' as a whole and if he had defined Slytherin through Malfoy, he might as well just outright say that they were all dark pureblood supremacists.

It made him feel guiltier. Not only about Daphne but to the Slytherin House as a whole who had nothing to do with the conflict other than house-rivalry.

Stupid, stupid, _stupid_.

He should've said something yesterday. Now, the girl just saw him as another prejudiced bastard who judged people based on their origins. It was frighteningly similar to saying that Sirius was also a dark wizard because the Black Family certainly was.

The thought made Harry almost feel physically ill.

With the first task, he had used Professor Moody's advice in conjunction with the spells Daphne had provided him with. The Confirma Potestatem charm certainly helped him moved around the dragon while the Surdus Minui Curse almost made him lose points–the Hungarian Horntail had panicked at its lost sense of smell and hearing since the Conjunctivitis Curse had certainly crippled its sight. But through sheer dumb luck, he had managed to procure the egg with the use of his Firebolt. The dragon almost escaped its leash but with the wild flailing and panic it was causing, it had been instantly stunned and bounded by the handlers as soon as Harry got the egg. Though he did injure his shoulder when the dragon's tail caught him unaware even under the Notice-me-not charm and the Flame-Freezing charm worked perfectly well since he wasn't roasted alive even at the face of the flames.

But the cause of his gloomy mood even amidst the cheering crowd of students was a girl named Daphne Greengrass.

She hadn't even come to watch the task and Harry didn't feel the least bit happy at the knowledge of it. Even most of the Slytherin House had come even only to gloat at him.

Even though Ron and Hermione were now by his side again, it made him feel bitter inside. It was eerily similar to what Daphne had pointed out to him.

Now that he knew her father was a Death Eater and currently imprisoned in Azkaban, would he criticize her based on a man he never even met? Now that Hermione and Ron knew he didn't sign up for this, they suddenly take his side once again as if their mistake wasn't that harsh on him and could now be forgotten just because they apologized.

Though he didn't say anything, there was still a part of him that felt so hurt and betrayed. But they were his best mates, Harry was willing to give them a second chance.

When Harry resolved to fix things with Daphne the night when the First Task occurred, he was finally able to admit–even only to himself–that he did have a crush on Daphne Greengrass. And she had been nothing but honest with him for the past month.

Like what he did, Harry just hoped that Daphne was willing to give him a chance too.

* * *

Neville might not have been really good around people.

But he at least knew how to be a friend. Once you get past the shy and somewhat timid exterior, there was a warm, bright, and smart individual under all the flustering and stuttering. He was also extremely loyal to those who earned it and others had wondered why he hadn't been sorted into Hufflepuff. But what they overlooked was the fact that, this loyalty brought out the shimmering courage and bravery out of Neville.

Bravery was doing something right regardless of your fear of the possibilities it entailed. Neville had this within his spirit that made him more than welcome in his house as no doubt, Godric Gryffindor would be very proud to let him in.

That was one of the reasons why Neville was the most ideal friend for those who valued genuine camaraderie and bonds in friendships.

Only his upbringing by the hands of his grandmother, Augusta Longbottom, was this trait carefully hidden within the shell of submissiveness that the woman had instilled upon her grandson. She had almost squashed it through her adamant belief of Neville as the second coming of her son, Frank, but Neville also inherited the perseverance and determination to prove himself from his mother, Alice, that he had managed to hold on to that trait.

When Harry had first been accused of cheating, Neville had been confused at first. Not because he didn't believe Harry but because he was instantly thinking of _how_ did Harry's name appear in the Goblet of Fire. He had also thought that Harry would be fine, he had his friends to support him. Neville might only get in his way. Then Ron and Hermione had to shut that fact down, hard. It was almost surreal to him. Their friendship–Ron, Hermione, and Harry's–had been carefully weaved through trials and loyalty that made Neville extremely jealous. He had always wished for friends who would tell him that the world was right and Neville deserved to be in it as much as everyone else or whom he could offer his support so he wouldn't feel so useless like what his grandmother thought of him.

So it wasn't until a few days later after the announcement did Neville gather his courage of open belief and support for Harry.

And despite sharing the brunt of the negative effects with Harry, Neville didn't regret it one bit.

Harry was a loyal friend, caring, selfless, and didn't criticize him for the barest of things but instead, took his time to help and correct them. It honestly made Neville feel appreciated. Though there were times that he felt absolutely insecure since he didn't think himself as helpful as Ron or Hermione. But what he didn't know was that, Harry had started to consider him as one of his best mates. Not only for his loyalty but because Neville was a _true_ friend. If there was something Harry had always valued and wanted, it was genuine friendship that Neville had wholeheartedly gave despite what others told about him; just simply because Neville trusted him.

Neville had also seen how Harry had been enamoured by Daphne Greengrass.

He had gotten to know the girl very well during third year (when they had been paired off in Potions) as well as during summer with Astoria, her sister. And Neville had discovered that not all Slytherins were like Malfoy despite their parents' deeds, something he was glad that Harry was starting to see. Though why she was particularly nasty to Harry, he wasn't really sure but there were times that Harry could be overbearing.

So he hadn't been surprised when a disheartened Harry Potter approached him one afternoon and asked the oddest question.

"What do you know of Daphne's parents?"

Harry looked ready to plead if Neville showed the slightest signs of being hesitant.

But Neville had expected this, waited for it even.

From how Harry reacted when Neville first mentioned them, he knew that his friend had no idea what he was getting himself into at all. Harry was even oblivious to the incredulous gazes from the staff, the confused gazes of Slytherins from their year, and the appraising stare of Professor Snape every time he was seen around Daphne.

"You finally knew?" Neville asked gently, knowing how it must have shocked his friend.

"Yes," Harry nodded slowly. "Her father was a Death Eater. I just thought that with what you said…" The raven haired boy sighed as he ran a hand through his messy locks.

"I didn't lie." The other mentioned meekly. "Her mother, Lady Monica Greengrass, is also a resident of St. Mungo's–the Spell Damage ward." He only knew this when he had met her and Astoria during one of his visits to his own parents last summer.

Harry didn't know the significance of the place other than it being a hospital.

"Spell Damage ward?" He questioned, almost dreading the answer.

"Yeah, they tend to incurable curses, jinxes, or incorrectly-applied charms casted on someone. My parents are also there." Neville admitted quietly, getting the uncomfortable feeling he always had when discussing his parents and their unawareness of their child.

"So her mother opposed Voldemort," Neville flinched at the name. "And if her father was a Death Eater…"

"He went into hiding with his family, tortured them while he's at it. It wasn't until four years after You-Know-Who's fall did the Aurors locate them." Harry had gone chalk white at the information. "I-It's scary. How he can do it to his own family. That's why Lord Harold Greengrass, Daphne's uncle, made his sister and nieces disown the name of their husband and father. It was considered one of the most unforgivable crimes in the Wizardry World, to turn on one's family."

Harry frowned as he analyzed it.

"So, Greengrass was from her mother?" He queried as he realized that it must have been the reason he couldn't recall a Death Eater that might be related to Daphne.

"Yes, her father was from one of the prominent dark families next to the Blacks. Aldrin Rosier from the Rosier family–it was rumored that the family had always been in league with You-Know-Who. If you want, you could always look for a copy of the Daily Prophet in the library dated back in 1985. It was quite the news back then and Gran had supported Lord Greengrass in disowning the Rosier name in his sister's behalf and to make sure his brother-in-law spend the rest of his life in Azkaban."

Judging from Harry's reaction, he had not expected something like this when Daphne had obviously admitted about her father's previous dark association.

It was one of the things he and Daphne had shared a mutual ground on. Though Neville could never imagine his father torturing his own mother into insanity just because they happened to clash sides. A guilty part of him was even glad that both of his parents were unaware since it would be hard for him to love the other while hating the other.

He shuddered since it was a terrifying possibility.

"His father tortured them?" Harry asked faintly and he looked a little sick.

"Yeah. He's the last of the family since his cousin and uncle died during the First War." Neville shrugged, aware how his discomfort was slowly eating at him.

"You–You know your facts very well." Harry replied with a weak smile.

But Neville's eyes just dimmed as he looked away.

"Gran wanted me to learn history from the First War so that I don't make the same mistakes my parents supposedly did." This time, Neville sounded bitter. "Their tormentors are still alive somewhere in Azkaban and I hope they _rot_ in there." He continued with slight malice as his eyes glittered with contempt.

_If it weren't for them…_

He didn't notice Harry's shocked look at his sudden scornful outlook.

"I-I think I need to go talk with Daphne." Harry finally said after a moment of silence.

Neville didn't even look back.

He just felt tired.

"You do that."

* * *

"Hi Daphne." Harry tentatively said as he sat down across from her in the library.

"What do you want, Potter? And it's Greengrass. Can't you just go _away_?" She questioned scathingly, glaring at the parchment in front of her without looking at Harry.

"I just want to talk." He stated carefully.

It must have been his tone or his words because she looked up to glower at him.

"Well, I don't want to. You can leave me alone now that Weasley and Granger are your _friends,_" The way she spat the word showed what exactly she thought of the two. "Again. You're famous again so you don't have to endure my company any longer." Daphne stated sarcastically but still with the same resentful contempt.

"Look, Daphne, I know I didn't react that good but… I'm sorry." He apologized.

"I don't need your pity." She gritted out before standing up, collecting her things, and leaving the library.

But Harry wasn't having any of that.

So he too stood up and caught up to her strides as they exited the library.

"I do _not_ pity you!" He yelled as his hand clamped on her shoulder to cease her movements. "For Merlin's sake, can't you just be quiet for a minute and _listen_ to me?" Harry finally groaned out in frustration.

She whirled around to face him with a scowl.

"You have no right to demand _anything_ from me–" She started angrily as he fists clenched.

"I don't! I just want to talk!" He argued but Daphne just pursed her lips.

Without even saying anything, she shrugged off his hand and turned on her heel to get away from him. Harry felt the same heartbreaking feeling from three days when he realized that Daphne had not come to watch during the First Task. Then during said three days where the girl had done her best in avoiding him (which he made hard for her since he had the Marauder's Map).

He had pleaded already. But if he didn't do anything now… Things would just be as it is. And he did want to be her friend.

"Daphne! Wait!"

So he chased after her down a small flight of stairs. Daphne must have heard his footsteps because she unexpectedly turned around to maybe shout or yell at him before he collided with her small form.

It was like watching something in slow motion as he watched her honey-gold eyes widen in shock as his body bumped into hers. Or the way the floor was slowly becoming uncomfortably closer as they fell.

Harry was just thankful they had been standing on the last step or this might be more painful.

Instinctively, he closed his eyes as he landed on something soft.

But when he opened them, he found his face awfully close to the flushed visage of Daphne as she wheezed. He blushed at the close proximity as he got a glimpse of her shimmering gold orbs and smooth porcelain skin. Embarrassingly, his body was reacting in a way he never even considered as he uncomfortably noted how warm it was getting the longer he laid on top of her. But her visage was flushed–with _anger_.

"Potter," She gasped out as her eyes glared at him. If looks could only kill. "You're not exactly light. And I _will_ get off if I were you or I'm going to blast your bits to oblivion." As she snarled this, he could feel the point of her wand poking at his pelvis and unnervingly close to his privates.

For a moment, he just froze.

"_Now_!" She yelled furiously.

Immediately, Harry scrambled away from her and backed off completely until he sat a considerable distance from her in safety. His face still blushing.

She was heaving as her face reddened.

"Y-You perverted arse!" Daphne growled as she slowly stood up, her wand still pointed at Harry whose eyes widened.

"I-It's an a-_accident_!" Harry stuttered lamely as he tried to reason to the obviously incensed girl.

She scowled deeply at him.

"You're insufferable!" She clenched her hand around her wand before storming away from him but her cheeks still burned.

Harry made no move to catch up as he slumped down.

So much for apologizing, this was beyond humiliating. Not that he minded the close proximity since he liked the smell of lavender and vanilla from her. But it was the first time he had gotten close like _that_ to a girl–Hermione didn't even get that near. It was awkward and embarrassing. Since he just stayed on that position until she had to threaten him to get off. He groaned, why was he acting like this?

Simply put, Harry didn't know how to explain himself. He even thought of asking her to the Yule Ball.

Daphne will never give him a chance now.

* * *

**Thank you for reading.**


	3. Chapter 3

**OooOoOooO**

AN: Most of you had commented that it wasn't Harry's fault for being the way he was and how he viewed Slytherins. I _know_ that. But see it from Daphne's point of view, her house had always been alienated due to its history. Malfoy and Snape and some Slytherins only made it worse. But she had expected Harry to overlook those individuals and see her house as a divided whole. Her interactions proved that since she was still conversing with him despite her insults. And those of you who expected to see understanding from Daphne, I was _not_ trying to make Daphne perfect here. Just because she was willing to associate with Harry didn't mean she would follow his beliefs as well, for her, they hardly know each other to give explicable trust. And being looked at with her father's name tainting hers by other families had made her somewhat easily-angered to bigots and close minded people. As for the last part, they're teenagers. Sure, they've grown faster than the others but it still doesn't remove the fact that they're fourteen year olds.

Lastly, it was said that _most_ members of the Slytherin house were from dark families. But only few were ever encountered and that was mostly from Harry's year. So I added some twist to make it stand out and show the power play within Slytherin house more.

_Enjoy the chapter!_

* * *

**Chapter 3: Hating the World**

Daphne scowled, wary as she subtly crossed her arms while her right hand wandered inside the left sleeve of her robe for her wand.

She should have expected this, Tracey did warn her, but it still came across as a befuddlement when it _actually _happened. Though why they waited for a whole month before doing anything made her suspicious. Even though Draco Malfoy and Pansy Parkinson were the most vocalize in her house, they were not the ones who were considered to be taken cautiously. Those two were the voices but they weren't the enforcers.

"Well, well, it looks like ickle little Potty's missing from your elbow, Daphne." Richard McNair grinned across from her and it was far from pleasant judging from the malice in his crystal blue eyes.

"I don't know what you're talking about." Daphne muttered almost mutinously.

At this game, it was better to play oblivious than to deny and be called for it. Her honey-gold eyes stayed vigilantly sharp around her but it hardly left the three people in front of her. They had cornered her in the library when others were mostly out and about as the Christmas Holidays approached nearer. Either for the Solstice Celebration back home or the Yule Ball at Hogwarts. And Daphne barely refrained herself from cursing both occasions.

"It's about damn time." Brandon Yaxley Jr. rolled his hazel orbs as he leaned back on the heavy brown wooden chair.

"There are many rumors about that, Lady Greengrass," Amanda Rowle ignored how Daphne stiffened as she flipped her blonde hair over her shoulder, eyeing the younger girl critically. "Most of them are not so favourable tsk, tsk." She admonished gently even though her pale blue eyes were unforgiving.

These three were the ruling power next to Malfoy's hand–a trio of Sixth Years–who had remained discreet from the whole school but had a main hold in the power play within Slytherin.

And others were right to be wary of them. These three have certain…connections that would rather not be known–most of which Daphne would instead not face.

"You said so yourself, those were mere rumors. No basis for fact." Daphne countered carefully, her eyes noting the possible exits, shields, or places she could fit herself in to hide in case she needed to run on her feet.

It seemed that McNair had read her mind as he stood up from his seat and plopped himself next to Daphne.

Officially cornering her.

"But that's where you're mistaken, darling," Yaxley's eyes brightened considerably at the young girl's unintentional shudder. "Unlike others, we have eyes. See." He jokingly pointed to his two hazel eyes which earned a chuckle from McNair.

"Normally, we let Malfoy handle people. Even though he's mostly a joke, people listen to him because of his father's reputation." Rowle pointed out as she frowned in disapproval.

"But it seemed that his power was curbed. He lost one of his sheep." McNair added meaningfully as he propped his elbow on the desk, leaning his cheek on his palm. "We usually don't care for neutrals. As far as we can tell, they're blood traitors for doing nothing."

Daphne lost some control as she glowered at them for a moment before masking her reaction with forced indifference.

Their amusement was almost palpable and Daphne hated them for it.

"What are you insinuating?" The raven haired girl almost growled.

"Darling little Greengrass," Yaxley almost cooed but even though he was a handsome brunette, his real attitude was nothing to desire. "You _don't_ have a choice. You already have a side and despite your dearest uncle's effort, you're father made sure of that." If Daphne didn't know him as well as she did, she might have been relieved at his slight, charming smile.

"My father will never have a say in my life, he lost that right when he raised his wand against us." Daphne knew it was a risk by testing their hands and revealing her perspective on the matter but she had to establish her temporary grounds; neither affiliating herself with the man nor choosing a side.

It didn't work out so well.

"Of course," McNair nodded almost solemnly. "But by being his daughter ensured where you stood." His scathing undertone made her go rigid.

Rowle clapped mockingly as understanding flashed into Daphne's eyes, smiling almost menacingly at the other girl's fury.

"You know that it shouldn't be Greengrass in the first place, isn't it Lady _Rosier_?" The older blonde girl raised an eyebrow as Daphne obviously tried to quell her furiousness at what she was hinting at.

"It doesn't help that you look so much like your father and most of the Rosiers." Yaxley nonchalantly added fuel to the fire.

Daphne had to control herself from simply drawing her wand there and then. Even though evidently outnumbered and out-powered, her rage was making it impossible to see logic. She hated being reminded of that thought–if it weren't for the fact that she was a female, Daphne would be the spitting image of Aldrin Rosier. From her piercing honey-gold eyes, to the dark hair, and even the face shape only softened by feminine features. The only thing she inherited from her mother was the shape of her eyes while Astoria got everything else; the luscious brown hair, warm brown eyes, and heart shaped face. It was _so_ unfair.

Even her uncle had a hard time simply looking at her without being reminded of his sister who was stuck in St. Mungo's.

"Run away from it, no matter, everybody who knew of the Rosier Family could tell for themselves that you have the Rosier blood running within your veins." McNair stated, sounding as if he was just giving a friendly advice.

Daphne hated this conversation. She had no control of it. Never did, if she was willing to admit.

"Get to the point." The girl finally bit out impatiently.

"The point is, my dear," Yaxley started dramatically by half-standing and leaning on the table to close some distance between their faces; his hazel orbs looking deeply into her gold ones. "Potter boy has no right to associate with you, let alone should you allow it. You're the heiress of the Rosier in anything but the papers. Many people are watching you–especially those from the…_questionable_ side. I would just like to remind you." He finally sneered condescendingly.

"I am not my father just as you will never be your parents." Daphne had to mask her features very well, the cold fury that flashed within their eyes was truly visible and somewhat terrifying. "I don't care what other people think, I am not a Rosier, not any longer, _never _will be. I condemned that name the day I condemned that man. And don't give that crap about people watching me, that's nothing new. And I am not the only Rosier, Astoria's one as well. I don't understand why you find it right to single me out."

Yaxley scowled at Daphne's audacity, a brief spark of backbone.

"You forgot, didn't you? Could you even say that to Ferdinand's face?" Rowle scathingly mocked, her lips pursing into a displeased frown.

"He doesn't take to…oppositions so well, if you catch my drift." Any humor–be it sadistic or purely gleeful–was absent from McNair's face unlike a while ago, now carefully structured to be as blank as a wall.

Daphne stiffened but didn't feel any ounce of fear.

In fact, she hated that boy.

Ferdinand Lestrange was a Seventh Year Slytherin who was more ambitious and arrogant than Malfoy. From her own perspective, he's also an underhanded, stupid, blood purist of a teenager who used his uncle and aunt's reputation as a vicious torturer of a Death Eater to get what he wanted. Even though he's cunning enough to do it under the Professors' noses, his arrogance was his downfall as Professor Snape had proven last school year.

"You know I never cared. But, why?" She had to finally question as dancing around the subject lead them nowhere.

The answer was immediate and precise.

"Alliance." McNair straightened.

"Prestige." Rowle had a determined look on her face.

"_Power_." Yaxley emphasized.

And those summed it all up.

Their fathers–Aldrin Rosier, Thorfinn Rowle, Walden McNair, Brandon Yaxley Sr., and the Lestrange brothers–had been a close circle of friends back in their Hogwart's days. That's the only reason she could recall for them to even let Lestrange lead them.

The older children had always made it their goal to include her, to persuade her but never succeeded due to Daphne's deep hatred of her father.

Astoria had only been left alone due to the absolute protection their uncle had gained. Daphne thought how unfair it was; still being the Rosier Heiress in blood had managed to somewhat curb her uncle's guardianship over her. She hated it. She wished she was the younger child instead of Astoria. But at the same time, Daphne would never push this pressure on her twelve year old sister's shoulders.

It suddenly dawned on her that they were _afraid_. Not for Daphne but her new…acquaintance, Harry Potter.

He symbolized the defeat and failures of the dark lord, the embodiment of Voldemort's embarrassment, and the figure for the light side. Of course, they expected her to go dark and never questioned it. Her cooperation meant a key to the Rosier Family's wealth–not only in money but a large variety of knowledge as well. The contracts and family roots would acknowledge only her as the remaining member with her father's automatic eviction the moment he was administered in Azkaban. She might not have carried the name but she was still _officially_ the heiress. It suddenly made so much sense.

But it was clear that this wasn't their own doing, more like an order from their fathers.

Yet why act so forward _now_? When she had established what she wanted for herself and not when she could still be influenced during her younger years.

"It's near," Yaxley whispered under his breath while the other two looked at him in alarm. "It's not a secret within our House but you also know that the Dark Lord never died."

"Bran…" McNair warned but didn't speak to oppose the statement.

Daphne's breath caught in her throat.

Intentional or unintentional, it was through these three, Lestrange and Malfoy that she was even up to date about Death Eater news or the dark side's recent excursions. About how Nott Sr. had acquired a supposed dark artefact from New Zealand, the Parkinsons' endorsement of muggle slavery, or even about Lestrange's whores of 'mudbloods'. Daphne had been sickened but due to her desire to be not involved, she had not spoken about it.

The reason about the continuous heinous behaviour now had a reason.

A very scary reason. Back then, the knowledge of Voldemort's still continued existence was never said aloud but it was implied amongst the circles of pureblood families. Mainly dark supporters or blood purists.

They were recruiting her, she realized with horror.

"Terrifying, isn't it?" Rowle breathed out almost wryly.

Before her brain could catch up with her actions, Daphne was already on her feet and hastily stepped back to put distance; her wand in hand as she pointed it at three calculating faces of the three sixth years.

Almost calmly, Rowle, McNair, and Yaxley brought out their own wands but neither pointed at her.

"You used to be one of those 'neutrals'," Yaxley spat the word out like venom. "But ever since you hang out with Potter, you've changed. Not only generally but you even chose sides. Others may not see it with the way you keep endorsing your dislike for him but we're not stupid. The moment you helped Potter without asking anything for return shows how much you put in for him." He twirled his wand in his right hand, narrowing his hazel eyes at her.

Rowle scoffed as she combed a hand through her blonde tresses.

"If it were only you, the higher-ups would never have a problem. But choosing sides meant choosing for the Rosier Family as well. The family was one of the oldest in England, a descendant family from the Slytherin line and the Dark Lord _will_ expect support from it. Your father and his brother's dedication made sure of that. Do not push him, _Rosier_," McNair stressed the surname with such seriousness that left Daphne cold. "His wrath knows no bounds." He added almost as an afterthought.

"I am no one's servant." Daphne mumbled under her breath but with the same conviction she had about her contempt for her father. More so than ever.

"Think about what we said, we may not be friends, but we'd really hate to see you die." McNair stated softly as he tucked his wand, ignoring the surprise glances of Yaxley and Rowle.

With that, he swept out of the library.

Rowle and Yaxley didn't keep their wands away but they held it with less caution as they stared at Daphne.

"Choose carefully." Those were Yaxley's cryptic advice before he followed McNair out.

As Rowle disappeared around the corner, the fear, fury, and confusion finally caught up with Daphne as her whole body began to shake uncontrollably. She collapsed into a heap on the ground, her wand carelessly rolling away from her grip. A part of her knew this would happen eventually–be forced into something she didn't want. Light meant her life was forfeited and dark meant she would be forced to do horrible things she never wanted to. Neutrality, as much as she wanted, never meant anything anymore since McNair made it clear that they were considered blood traitors anyway and the dark lord would surely never tolerate such reputations.

She closed her eyes to stop any tears from building unnecessarily.

There was nothing in the world that she wanted except for being simply Daphne and nothing more.

Life would not be so damn hard and painful that way.

"If they want a fight, I'll give them one." Daphne Greengrass gritted out through the shaking that wracked her body, her fists clenching at her sides; it was now or never.

After all, dark secrets and closets full of skeletons were more famous in Slytherin House. And those three were no better. Daphne just had to be extremely careful in order to utilize this advantage to her use–she knew a lot about dark secrets and was incredibly good in sniffing out skeletons and people's dirt.

But she still needed a way to do it without getting into St. Mungo's in the process.

* * *

"Uhm… Daphne, about the… other day, you see…" Harry instantly launched into stuttering his explanation without much success as soon as he sat across from Daphne in the library.

"It _never_ happened." She cut him off forcefully, not even looking up from her book. "Just forget it, Potter." Her voice was oddly neutral and lacked the fiery annoyance it usually held. And only added, "Oh, and it's Greengrass." As an afterthought.

Harry stared at her in a mixture of disbelief and surprise. He knew very well how stubborn she was and she never, _ever_, relented in any arguments or misunderstanding with others. Or in any case, always brought it up in order to antagonize someone. She was writing furiously on a parchment and the crease on her forehead was more pronounced than usual. Numerous stacks of thick tomes and books were spread out on her table; all of them had something to do with Defense and Duelling one way or another.

Confused, he grabbed the nearest book and read the title. He blinked but was not entirely surprise.

_Thousand Curses to Inflict Damage by Norwedia Klehporroi_

He opened it and felt his eyebrows raise as his mouth slid into a frown. These spells closely bordered on dark magic–"_A fine example would be the Cutitus Curse: a very painful spell casted to the victim and mostly causes the melting of the outer skin. It had been originally invented in manufacturing meat sales by getting the flesh much easily by dissolving the animal's skin. It was similar to burning of one's flesh from the inside out with a counter-spell of Refocillo to re-grow skin cells. Healers also used this as another means to repair scars of people by 'renewing' the skin; which was only partially successful due to lack of focus or purpose. To utilize entirely, the caster must have the intent to inflict pain and desire to 'burn' it off. Many people would not instantly label this as dark magic because of its other function in usefulness but somewhere in between–_"

The book was snatched from his hold by a frowning Daphne but she didn't say anything else, just putting it back on her stack.

"Don't touch." She muttered strongly but quietly.

"These are borderline dark, Daphne." He hissed out to her as he leaned forward, there was no disgust or anger in his voice but perplexity and slight apprehension.

She paused momentarily in her writing to look at Harry with grim yet exasperated gold eyes.

"You'll be surprised at how many of these are in Hogwarts library, most found in the Restricted Section." Daphne informed him almost nonchalantly, shaking her head in exasperation as she did so before going back to what originally she had been doing.

"I forgot about that," He muttered under his breath, remembering some of the titles back in that particular section due to numerous sneaking excursions.

"You've already been to the Restricted Section?" Daphne suddenly asked, apparently having heard him–her voice laced with surprise, vague interest, and sheer suspicion.

"Well, er, I was just searching about–"

"Who gave you your permission slip?" The girl cut in and stared at him intensely, a gaze that made him extremely uncomfortable.

Harry paled as his eyes widened.

"Permission slip?" His voice hitching as he said so.

When she continued to merely stare at him deeply, he began to squirm in his seat in discomfort. Then, an unexpected smile blossomed on her face as she chuckled to herself, almost laughing but only remembering to squash it due to them being in the library. She continued in that vain for another minute before peering at him with apparent amusement.

But his breath seemed to be stuck in his throat and it was only due to the burning in his chest that he remembered he needed to breathe.

He was right. Daphne was more beautiful if she didn't scowl so often. Stunning even with that smile, Merlin, that smile should be made illegal… maybe he could ask Hermione about some spell that made smiles stop a person's breathing.

"What would others think? Golden boy Potter, sneaking into the Restricted Section." She muttered with delight, her eyes sparkling with gleeful mirth as she found the mere idea so hilariously ironic.

Harry blinked as he tried to register her words.

He really should ask Hermione about that spell because it made his brain functions slower than normal.

So he said the first thing that came to mind, "I don't know but Snape's surely going to have a field day." He answered almost distractedly.

"Of course, anything to prove that Potter's not as innocent as he makes himself out to be." She smirked to herself but just as she was going back to do whatever she was doing, Daphne slowly stared at him with contemplation.

"What?" He finally cracked in discomfort, finally much aware than a while ago.

"Are you any good in duelling, Potter?" Daphne asked carefully as she gradually closed the thick book in her hands.

"Well, I've been into a couple of impromptus with Malfoy. Aside from that, not really because I haven't really gave it any thought since Lockhart's little club back in second year." He shrugged and grimaced as he remembered the blonde attention-seeking ponce.

Daphne scowled at the mention.

"If it wasn't for Professor Snape's presence, that club would have been mostly a joke." She snorted derisively, her golden eyes gleaming with annoyance. "And Malfoy's a twit when it comes to a wand. So we can safely say that you have no real experience in proper duelling."

"And you have?" Harry questioned sarcastically and rolled his eyes.

"I do but nothing major. Some mishaps in my house that can't be resolved through mere words and reasons." Daphne shrugged as she looked away.

"Snape lets you?" He asked incredulously with wide eyes, remembering times that the professor even assigned detentions to Malfoy for exchanging hexes with him during unfortunate times in the hallways.

"Unlike in that cat house of yours," She started as she ignored his indignant stare. "The ruling principle in Slytherin is _power_. Raw, influential, or prestigious, you have it, you have a say. If you don't, play oblivious but know the lines you can't cross. That's why most let Malfoy get away with things, his father has the reputation and influence. Professor Snape knows this too. But power plays have been part of my house since even his time and interfering will result to unsettled matters and feuds–if worse comes to worst, it leads to bad blood amongst pureblood families which further causes a wider dispute until it comes to a blood war to sort out things." Daphne shook her head as she imparted some of the pureblood traditions to the boy.

Harry's eyes were wide.

He always knew that Malfoy had been using his father's reputation to further his influence in Slytherin. But he had never expected the house to be so complicated yet it made so much sense since it housed most of the purebloods in the Wizardry World.

But why was Daphne telling him this? Since he didn't dare believe that her anger just from a week ago would be this easy to resolve through a conversation–she had made sure before that he knew how far her fury could exceed.

If he didn't know any better, she was trying to hint something to him, but _what_?

Despite the curiosity that compelled him to ask more about the house, about duelling, about _her_, Harry decided to be a little cautious.

"Why are you telling me… _this_?" He murmured as he stared at her intensely.

Her eyes sharpened at him as they flashed with annoyance. It was very apparent to Harry how she barely maintained her indifferent expression to give way to her usual scowl. She took a deep breath as she stared at him.

"I am willing to overlook your earlier transgression because I need someone to spar with. Duelling–if you haven't already guessed. I need to improve." Daphne gritted out, some of her anger finally resurfacing as she glared at Harry.

Yet, she managed to imply subtle things.

You also have to too, she seemed to say. And for all the resentment in her tone, it gave an underlying statement–you will need it more than I do.

_And she's right_, he thought bitterly.

"If I agree to this, what's in it for me?" He raised an eyebrow as he crossed his arms over his chest.

Since she hadn't spoken it out loud, Harry was willing to find certain loopholes.

She eyed him appraisingly.

"That was almost Slytherin of _you_, Potter. That's something I would expect to hear from Nott or Zabini, I was almost surprised." Daphne remarked calculatingly, her eyes assessing him cautiously all of a sudden.

Harry intentionally didn't say about the sorting hat's previous persuasion of placing him into Slytherin.

"You haven't answered my question." He pointed out dryly, a little nervous since she looked like she knew there's something more about it but relented.

"Alright, you may ask me a favor in return, one within my boundaries." She narrowed her gaze at him at this, remembering the first task. "If I find it extremely inconvenient to my person, I have no qualms about hexing your hide until next week."

And he smiled.

It was just so like Daphne to threaten someone while negotiating with them. Either she scared others off or terrified them into doing as was told. He could guess that it was more of the latter, anyway.

Before she even uttered the words though, he already had something in his mind that he dearly wanted to ask.

Should he?

Could he risk it with the tentative truce Daphne had grudgingly established with him at the moment?

He _should_ try. Or he would never get another chance.

And just hoped with all his being that this one wouldn't end in another humiliating disaster like last week.

So Harry took a deep breath and looked at her directly in the eye.

"Go to the Yule Ball with me."

* * *

Hermione eyed them from the other side of the library.

She had been watching Daphne Greengrass for some time now and had been surprised at the other girl's fervour into researching–she didn't know exactly what about but the Slytherin girl got the books from the Defense Against the Dark Arts section.

This was the girl Harry had been following around most of the time she and Ron had been avoiding him.

She felt incredible guilt over that–Harry was her best friend, her faith should not have been questionable. It wasn't until Neville had given her a disappointed look in the corridors that she realized what her actions lead to. She was also about to apologize but then, fear of rejection got a hold of her and she held back. Then it was completely put on hold as Harry's obvious enamoured attitude towards Greengrass became known. Ron had been incredibly annoyed by it, even going as far as to speculate the use of love potions. But Harry hadn't shown any signs of being bewitched but rather genuine honesty as he looked at the girl with admiration and determination.

After all, she had never seen Harry take initiative in this kind of things, going as far as to purposely antagonize Greengrass to get her attention.

Yet, every rebuke the girl shot at him, he got this mischievous warm look in his eyes as he poked fun of the raven haired girl. His smile was bright and his expression light as they bantered. She had watched them for a while and saw how their seemingly scathing encounters turned into a witty exchange of light insults. How Greengrass, from ignoring Harry, had slowly and unknowingly begun to pay attention to him.

Then something definitely occurred as Greengrass suddenly tried her best to avoid Harry. Hermione had bumped into the girl a few times who was quickly striding away.

Greengrass would glare at Harry angrily but they also held a gleam of disappointment and a little regret.

She just hoped that her best friend had done nothing so inconceivably wrong to be unable to redeem himself.

Of course, she had done her own research about the girl. The Daily Prophet during 1985 to 1986 (kindly asked from Madam Pince) certainly didn't hold back at all as it wove a tragic tale about the late Rosier family. She didn't know whether to be disgusted at Greengrass' father or simply pity the girl. Evan Rosier and his father, Emmanuel Rosier, were killed in the First War while his brother, Aldrin Rosier, had been only located four years after the dark lord's defeat and had been only imprisoned. Hermione would have thought that the Ministry would at least be thoughtful enough to have the man kissed by a Dementor after what he did to his own family.

Apparently, having previous acquaintances (accused Death Eaters who claimed Imperius) within the Ministry of Magic had its advantages. Only Lord Greengrass' fierce drive to get some kind of retribution had made sure that Aldrin would be spending the rest of his life in Azkaban. The man's hatred for his sister's former husband pushed him to get his nieces to disown the Rosier name as well.

Hermione had heard of the Rosier name from several students in Hogwarts (Evan, Aldrin, and Emmanuel had certainly left an impression during the war)–some from Gryffindor, little Hufflepuff, but mostly from the Ravenclaw who spoke of it in whispers, dark undertones, and extreme malice. Most of it came from Anthony Goldstein, whose family suffered from the deadly and terrible hands of Emmanuel Rosier during 1979. She had seen the way those students stared at Greengrass in confliction–anger was apparent, but pity was also there as they heard about her family. If Daphne hadn't disowned the name and took Greengrass instead, Hermione knew that there would be dire consequences.

But right now, she didn't know what to think of Daphne Greengrass as Hermione had no idea where her allegiances were aligned. She didn't even know if Harry was aware of the girl's history.

Just as she was leaving, she saw Harry enter the library and somewhat nervously sat across Greengrass.

So she waited out a bit and decided where this will go. She had watched as Harry's expression throughout the conversation went from anxious, to surprise and disbelief, to apprehension, to perplexity, to awestruck, discomfort and suspicion, and finally, to determination. While Greengrass' back faced her so Hermione couldn't be too sure about her expression.

Hermione stiffened in shock as Greengrass was suddenly pointing her wand to Harry, poking him on the shoulder as she seemed to say some things heatedly.

But the surprising thing was Harry's beaming face as he nervously pushed away the wand from his person, it still didn't deter the elation and a little smugness from his expression though. As he stood up, he smiled at the raven haired girl gratefully before excitedly walking out of the library.

Curious, Hermione decided to know what happened so she stood up from her seat and ran to catch up to Harry (directing a sheepish gaze to Madam Pince's glare for running).

She saw him whooping just outside the library's door as he laughed out loud happily.

"Harry!" She cried out to get the boy's attention.

He paused as his bright eyes stared at her.

"Hermione! You won't believe it but I already manage to get a date to the Yule Ball!" He explained cheerfully, his words rushing out in quick succession that the bushy haired girl almost didn't understand what he just said.

"Or manage to persuade the date you wanted, you mean." She teased lightly as she smiled at her best friend's joy.

Harry blushed brilliantly.

"W-Well, it's just a ball, you know–not that it's a date-_date_…" He stuttered out, so different from the euphoria earlier that Hermione failed to suppress a chuckle.

"What I want to figure out is how you convinced Greengrass to accept you," She was joking as she knew that more than half of the girls in Hogwarts were vying for Harry's attention lately. He was just oblivious to it since his eyes were now fixed on someone else, namely, a Slytherin witch with raven hair and honey-gold eyes.

A realization sparked in his eyes briefly before he visibly deflated, looking suddenly defeated.

"Agreement of sorts, actually." He admitted with a sheepish but somewhat bitter smile.

"But she still decided to go with you," Hermione pointed out, willing to find something positive for Harry to work on. "She could have backed out from whatever it was or call for different conditions in an agreement."

They were on their way to the Gryffindor common room, walking side by side.

A mischievous glint entered his eyes as they regained the exhilaration from a moment ago.

"Yeah, she could have." Harry responded with a slight smile that exuded such softness and warmth that Hermione discovered how lucky Greengrass was.

"Now, all you have to do is keep attending those dance classes of Professor McGonagall to make sure that your date will have a good time. I'd certainly be grateful if my date can dance and wouldn't step on my feet every minute. Aching toes hardly translated to a good date." She advised and was amused at Harry's red tinted cheeks that indicated embarrassment.

Just looking at his smiling face, Hermione pushed the worry within her in the backseat–she couldn't, for the life of her, burst her best friend's happy bubble by trying to warn him of Greengrass' history.

So now, she would let him have the chance to enjoy this.

And maybe accepting Krum's invitation to be his date wouldn't be bad either.

* * *

Daphne leaned back on her chair heavily.

She hadn't expected that tricking Potter into training with her would be this complicated. She wasn't blind, Harry Potter was a natural at Defense Against the Dark Arts. He had shown such potential and talent last school year under the competent guidance of former Professor Remus Lupin.

She was even willing to forget the embarrassment from last week to utilize Potter's skills. Besides, he was willing to become open-minded so she tolerated him.

Now, she had to attend a bloody Yule Ball with him.

And she had heard of the rumor how he managed to produce a corporeal Patronus against hundreds of Dementors (the number of those vile creatures might be exaggerated but Daphne knew the thing about the Patronus spell was real). He would be a great help in order to sharpen her somewhat rusty duelling skills. Her uncle had made sure that she and Astoria could protect themselves by hiring instructors to teach them basic duelling.

Something she'll definitely need against the dark supporters within her house.

Daphne had tricked all sorts of people before–even her sister–into doing things to get what she wanted. She always had the assurance that it was their fault that they let themselves be manipulated.

So for the first time, she couldn't understand why she was feeling _guilty_.

The image of Harry Potter's beaming face, warmly gazing at her as she relented into going to the Yule Ball with him, was the thing that brought the guilt out most prominently.

Maybe because he trusted her, or the fact that he had been naturally kind after the antagonism between them… maybe even the way he looked at her softly when he thought she wasn't looking. She didn't know. And didn't want to know any further, to be honest.

Then there's the dilemma that had been bothering her. She had mocked him, angered him, insulted him, threatened him, ignored him previously, and even severely pushed him away.

What she couldn't understand was why he was always coming back. Always pushing to be _there_.

Some rumors and students speculated it to attraction and crush but Daphne had dealt with those before and none of it involved warmth and such honesty.

It honestly scared her.

Not only because it was a completely different norm for her, she never dealt with affections or feelings like those before. Her uncle was entirely indifferent with her, avoiding her, and left her in the care of babysitters or house elves. He simply couldn't look at her while seeing Aldrin Rosier's face in hers. Astoria grew up to be well-cared and mostly kept oblivious. She cared for Daphne as much as the raven haired girl could for her but there was always the bitterness that existed within their relationship, how things were so unfair–Astoria never suffered while Daphne had to. Tracey was a childhood acquaintance who grew up to be a tentative friend over the years. But a drift had always been there since Tracey was easily pressured by power plays within pureblood families since she was a half-blood.

From her earlier memories, her father only looked at her when she could be of use. He never liked his eldest daughter as he had always aspired for a son who would carry his name. Her mother had been somewhat caring but had lost that backbone once her husband lifted his hand on her.

So it would be concluded that Daphne rarely, if not, encountered affection and love. And sometimes, she didn't know it even if it slapped her in the face.

Unlike Potter, she didn't have a family similar to the Weasleys to help her recuperate emotionally and learn what real family, loyalty, and love was. She certainly didn't have best friends to rely on to discover unquestionable trust, camaraderie, reliance when it was too much, and devotion. She had brought herself up almost independently and learned what she had by mainly observing others.

But what she had was hatred and fear, born from the torture of her father; anger, easily brought out by what she considered annoyances; wit and cunning, in order to get where she was; spine and nerve, to stand up to what she believe; and suspicion as others never made themselves trustworthy to her.

What little joys she had came from raising Astoria, encounters with few open-minded individuals, and her prowess as the top of her year and getting by the power play in her house all by herself.

And when she didn't understand things, she dealt it with the easiest way.

Anger, _lots_ of it.

Since she didn't want to appear like the ignorant she was and ignorance meant weakness.

And Potter was bringing out that weakness.

* * *

**Please leave a review!**


	4. Chapter 4

**OooOoOooO**

AN: _Sorry_ for the very late update. I got busy with exams and I had to finish this chapter. So I'm very sorry about the mistakes. But in return, I made this chapter longer if somewhat almost a filler. This chapter is about integrating characterization for certain people in this story. I don't like bashing very much and I want to stick to something as realistic as possible. So if you don't like it, just say so.**  
**

_But enjoy!_

* * *

**Chapter 4: Storm Brewing  
**

Harry was doing some last minute research for the second task when someone sat on the empty seat across from him.

He realized that he had been spending his time in the library a lot lately. Not only to conduct study for the upcoming task in the Tournament, but this had been the place he had been meeting and talking with Daphne lately. Their duelling study last Wednesday evening had been a success, if a little rocky. They had started with basic spells taught in Defense first to familiarize themselves. Harry had no problem in learning more about them but Daphne seemed to struggle with some. He had tried helping her in expelling them better but she had grown rather frustrated instead and proceeded to hex and curse everything in the empty classroom they had used.

If there was one thing he learned that day, it was to never do anything that could remotely be constituted as an insult to Daphne's pride.

She valued her year standing the most and seeing him better than her at something was obviously grating on her nerves. She was not unlike Hermione in that aspect.

Though to soothe her bruised dignity a bit, he pointed out that she had quite the repertoire of hexes and curses. The girl had calmed down significantly but Harry thought it rather terrifying since one particular nasty hex only missed him by hair's length.

Parting with each other on a subdued note, they had planned to have the next study on Sunday afternoon.

Now, it was Saturday evening–Cedric had, thankfully, helped him with acquiring the clue from the golden egg–and searching for different ways to stay underwater for an hour proved to be more of a challenge than he thought. He had a week before the task and less than that for the Yule Ball. He already had Sirius prepare his robes for the celebration and got the hang of dancing without stepping on someone's toes. The Second Task was just the thing keeping him from focusing entirely on the ball. What was the thing he'd missed the most for them to take? What will he do to be able to breathe underwater?

Those questions plagued his mind when he wasn't thinking of the upcoming ball. And Daphne was still rather tense around him.

So looking across from him, he was surprised to see a brunette girl staring at him in an unnerving manner. Her shiny brown hair cascaded down into loose curls over her shoulder while icy brown eyes stared at him intensely. He forced himself not to tense at the sight of the green and silver crest in her Hogwarts' robes. Though, judging from her appearance, Harry deduced her to be a year or two younger than him. And there was something rather familiar about her…

He squinted at the girl.

And drew back in complete surprise.

"You're Daphne's sister, Astoria, was it?" He blurted out as his eyebrows rose at her in question. He remembered Daphne mentioning her once or twice idly in passing conversations and had seen the younger girl on occasions.

She grimaced.

"Yes, I'm glad that you know who I am. But let me make it clear that I don't like you, Potter." Astoria started out bluntly, her eyes narrowing at him in disdain.

"Alright," He drawled out slowly. "So what do you want?"

If she wanted to be direct, then two could play on that game.

Astoria leaned back on her seat casually.

"Naturally, I will advise you to leave my sister alone. Yet seeing that she allows you to follow her around, I don't have a say now, do I?" Her voice had a condescending note that was hard to ignore and almost similar to the icy malice in Daphne's tone.

"Of course," Harry nodded, wondering where the girl was going with this.

"And you're the reason she's an open target now in our house." The girl sneered at him irately and Harry had the strangest thought that Malfoy might have had a twin as Daphne never warned him.

"I know and what are you trying to insinuate?" He asked coolly.

Inwardly, his stomach lurched in anxiety. Did something happen to her? When he had asked Daphne about it, she had made it clear that she could take care of herself and threaten him bodily harm if he even entertained the thought of getting involved.

But it was difficult to ignore with gits like Malfoy within the house.

So he only received an icy look for the concern and was rebuffed rather nastily for the effort.

"You have to understand, Potter, that most of the members of my house hates your guts for deeper reasons than being just a bloody Gryffindor." Astoria finally came to the point and this time, he did tense as his gaze zeroed on her somewhat severely.

"So your sister told me," He replied coldly, hating the fact of being reminded of the danger that Daphne didn't want him getting involved in and the helplessness that followed.

Astoria flinched at his tone, apparently not expecting it.

"You may not think so, but there are greater powers than Draco Malfoy in the house that could practically harm my sister." She stated with a frown not unlike Daphne's.

"Death Eater children?" Harry tentatively ventured and saw Astoria's sneer come to life once again.

"Thank you for stating the obvious." Astoria stated sarcastically.

"I already talked to your sister about this and she's rather adamant about being perfectly capable of defending herself." He couldn't even bring himself to be amused at Astoria's snort. "I may not know those in greater power than Malfoy but I will come after them with extreme prejudice should anything happen to Daphne."

The girl assessed him rather carefully before scowling.

And Harry was beginning to see rather clearly on how she was Daphne's sister.

"Bloody Gryffindor nobility," She gritted out before glaring at him. "My sister does _not_ need an avenger on her behalf, Potter. If it were up to me, I will advise you to cut ties with her. But since this is Daphne's decision, I can't do anything about it but tell you to be at least a grateful bastard for the risk she's putting herself in."

Now, Harry was beginning to get angry.

When he wasn't thinking of the tournament or the ball, he had always been worrying about Daphne's safety within her own house. Feeling guilty during nights that he couldn't sleep and doubting himself that maybe, he should have just left her alone.

And he didn't need someone scolding him about it.

"I'm grateful enough, believe me," He growled at the girl, incensed. "Don't you dare think that I don't feel guilty about this. I may have only known your sister for a couple of months but I like to believe in her since that is clearly what she asks of me. She's my friend, whether she likes it or not and I'll help her whether she likes it or not. If it means fighting your whole house, then I won't hesitate."

Her eyes seemed to gleam with approval though her scowl didn't disappear.

Then Astoria looked displeased.

"You talk as if you actually _like_ my sister, Potter, be careful with your words. Remember, _I_ don't like you." She huffed before standing up, gave him another sneer before walking away.

When he was sure that she was really gone, Harry sagged listlessly in his seat.

He had expected Astoria to be different than Daphne but not in this magnitude–Astoria seemed to carry herself with grace and confidence, the kind usually seen in purebloods who thought themselves superior to others while Daphne operated with quiet confidence that one showed as self-respect rather than superiority over others. Astoria was outwardly arrogant but Harry had seen the concern in her eyes for her sister. While Daphne's resentment was genuine and you had to know what to look for to really see any change. Both bore malice in their attitudes and were also careful to keep their real thoughts on matters to themselves.

Astoria was blunt. Harry could see that. Daphne would let you discover things for yourself first before getting frustrated and blurting it out altogether. The younger was condescending and had a way of looking down on others–him–without actually turning her nose up in the air like Malfoy and his people. Daphne would boldly stare someone down and burn them with vicious words that would make them feel pretty low about themselves.

Now, maybe, he could somewhat understand why Daphne avoided the subject regarding her sister.

He wasn't entirely expecting _that_ when he officially met Astoria.

* * *

Neville saw Harry grimaced as soon as he sat down for dinner beside him.

There was something bothering his friend, he could tell from the lingering frustration in his green eyes. Neville tried to ignore the intense stares of Ron and Hermione, because even if Harry had forgiven them both, the raven haired boy still opted to stick closer to Neville. They were still Harry's friends but the trust had to be earned back when it had been breached. He sat beside them in classes but always made sure that Neville was seated beside him too. He told them of his suspicions in the Triwizard Tournament but never the suspects–Harry only shared them with Neville now. A part of Neville felt that it was unfair since Hermione and Ron had been with Harry for the past three years. But the major part sympathized them, they had easily let Harry down and destroyed his trust so it was only fair of Harry to do what he did.

The Longbottom felt very privileged at that knowledge.

So he had helped Harry in searching for something to help him breathe underwater. And since he wasn't really good with spells or potions, Neville had moved on to the next best thing; his specialty, _Herbology_. And he was hoping that it would lift his friend's mood to know that there was indeed a type of plant to help a human breathe underwater.

"What's wrong, mate?" He mumbled quietly.

"I met Astoria." Harry frowned as he filled his plate with roast beef and mash potato.

Neville winced.

"She's generally nice to people… who are pureblood." He informed the raven haired boy meekly and saw realization light within Harry's eyes.

"I don't know what to really expect," Harry admitted a little embarrassedly. "But I didn't certainly anticipate Malfoy's younger twin sister."

Neville snorted in amusement.

"Only not such a prat as him." He smiled.

"Yeah, but they're so different." Harry admitted with an almost inaudible groan, Neville knew whom he was referring to. "Daphne could have cared less and her sister… she acts likes those purebloods in our society, no offense Nev, only hers is more subtle and you won't even notice it unless you've seen it before."

"Daphne just dislikes being linked to her father and belief in blood purity is one of them. Astoria was raised to be the heiress of the Ancient and Noble House of Greengrass so it was kind of expected of her." Neville felt the need to explain and defend the younger one, he rather liked the younger Greengrass.

"Why's Daphne not listed as the heiress?" Harry asked in confusion.

Apparently, Ron and Hermione were listening and the redhead instantly stepped in with a dark scowl. His blue eyes flickered to the Slytherin table with disgust and Neville almost groaned. Hermione seemed to sense what he saw too.

But her eyes were uncertain for some reason.

"She obviously can't be," Ron spat irately and missed the way Harry's eyes narrowed dangerously at him. "She's still officially the heiress of the Rosier Family. A dark family who joined You-Know-Who so I'm telling you, Harry, you can't trust her."

"Why?" Harry challenged with a calm stare which Neville quickly learned to associate with calm before the storm.

"Because she's from the _Rosier_ Family! What if she's in league with Death Eater children? It's dangerous!" Ron hissed with increasing urgency and complete belief in what he said.

Hermione looked at him in shock. Neville could only stare at him in anger. Harry still looked perfectly serene and composed, even though his eyes were flashing severely.

"And just like I can trust the both of you," Harry finally brought up after weeks of walking around the topic of their strained friendship. "You and Hermione aren't Death Eater children, aren't blood purist, aren't associated to Slytherin, aren't associated to _dark_, but you have betrayed my trust the most after I gave it to you willingly for the past three years. And if Daphne's dark by family association, are you also telling me that Sirius is a Death Eater because he's from the dark family of Blacks?" He finally glowered at the redhead who looked truly shocked, as if slapped, and thoroughly speechless.

Neville noted with sympathy that Hermione looked entirely crestfallen.

"S-Sirius is different–" Ron tried to stutter out as he realized what his explanation had actually sounded like.

"How?" Harry glared at him. "Because he's in Gryffindor?" He questioned sarcastically.

"I guess…" Ron reluctantly agreed, somewhat seeing his friend's point of view at the moment and he didn't like what it meant.

Hermione tried to defuse the argument from escalating further.

"Harry, you know Ron was just worried–" She started somewhat quietly as her eyes looked at Harry pleadingly.

"_Stop_, Hermione, right now, it's between him and I." He gritted out, obviously furious as he turned to the redhead. "Ron, I can understand why you think of the house that way. _Most_ of them had done nothing to actually dissuade us of them being backstabbing dark bastards. But once you graduate, houses mean absolutely _nothing_ outside this castle. Do you think Flourish and Blotts asks you first what house you belonged to before selling you any books? In fact, if it were up to what house you were previously in, then Professor Lupin wouldn't have been sacked and would _still_ be our professor this year. He's from Gryffindor but he's also a werewolf. But did him being in our house signified _anything _once they knew what he was?"

Ron avoided his gaze nervously, obviously horrified as his widened eyes stared blankly at the table. As if he still couldn't comprehend what Harry just said but could feel the reality of the words. Even Hermione looked stunned but impressed and a little proud. Neville stared at him with somewhat surprised eyes.

Harry then softened his gaze.

"I _was_ like that too. I'm not saying that most of the Slytherin's members aren't dangerous but I'm willing to give those who can prove themselves a chance. I talked to Sirius about it–he told me to be careful but he also told me that he has a cousin who is a Slytherin and has been disowned from the Black Family for marrying a muggleborn." The other three straightened in surprise and slight awe. "Does that tell you Slytherins are _all_ evil?"

With those parting words, he tiredly stood up from his seat and turned to Neville.

"Let's go to the library." He stated quietly with a gentle incline of his head.

Neville slowly stood up.

"Alright," He mumbled in agreement.

Harry turned to the still silent Ron and Hermione and smiled a little sadly, his eyes pained and exhausted.

"I wish it was never like this. That it was just like before. But, you made your choice," He gestured with his hands at the obvious divide that now existed even at how much it obviously pained him to do so.

Then he sighed.

"And… I guess I made mine too."

With that, he swept out of the Great Hall with Neville beside him.

* * *

"Harry! Wait!" Hermione yelled after him as they walked down the corridor on their way to the library.

He turned around just as he and Neville paused.

"Hermione?" He asked uncertainly as he stared at her unsurely.

She ignored the ache that followed at the reaction. Harry was usually open with her and never hesitated to approach her before. And seeing him so doubtful and a little nervous, she finally realized that before was now only a memory and they only had the present at the moment.

The girl disregarded the lump in her throat and the way her eyes suddenly stung; holding back.

"Thanks," Hermione stated quietly. "About what you said to Ron. I've been trying to tell him that since first year and it just seems to never break through. But what you just told us, it actually made him think and _realize_. He wouldn't transform overnight but I could see the change." She admitted to him a little ashamedly.

But Harry shook his head.

"I did it because he needed to hear it, Hermione, nothing more." He then grinned at her. "If it still means anything, you're still my friends." He told her firmly.

Her heart started to swell with hope as she gazed at him.

"But I can't just forget." Harry continued just as strongly.

_And you needed to earn that friendship back to what it used to be_, was left unsaid but she instantly understood.

She gave him a watery smile and nodded confidently.

"I know."

* * *

"So you mean this _gilly weed_ will allow me to breathe there?" Harry asked in awe as Neville showed him that particular book in Herbology that mentioned the plant. It looked like a messy tangle of green slimy roots but the details how it could give a wizard temporary gills and flipper feet to function underwater was absolutely brilliant.

Neville nodded confidently.

"I don't know if we'll find one in the school's Greenhouses but I already wrote to Gran about sending us some supply of it, just in case." He told his friend with a shy smile, quietly proud of his achievement.

"Nev, that's bloody brilliant!" Harry grinned as he finally solved his problem for the second task.

"I know," The boy smiled widely. "But you need a back-up plan if something unexpected happens." He reminded the raven haired boy before he could get overexcited, Harry had the tendency to be like that sometimes.

Harry groaned as he slumped in his chair.

"I know," He sighed. "Daphne wouldn't let me forget that anyway."

"Too right, I won't, and for the bloody last time, it's _Greengrass_." A voice harshly cut in as he and Neville gazed up to see Daphne sit across from them roughly, her features twisted into a very furious expression. And her hair was now tied tightly into a high ponytail, shorter strands framing her livid face.

"What's up?" Harry asked gently to the incensed girl.

She glared at him in contempt.

"_Why_ didn't you tell me that Astoria approached you?" Daphne hissed irately, her eyes dark and infuriated.

"Since when did we agree that I should be relaying whom I meet to you?" He raised an eyebrow in slight challenge, and maybe a little innocent mischievousness.

"_Since_ that girl is my sister, you dimwit."

"So I'm dim-witted now, am I? What happened to the supposed proficient individual in Defense?" He responded back sarcastically.

"That doesn't speak for the whole of you, seeing as how moronic you are generally." She quipped a little scathingly, narrowing her eyes at him dangerously.

Harry gave her a charming smile that might be a little tight at the edges.

"And where will I ever be if your intelligent highness hadn't graced me with her presence?" He replied a little sweetly and a tad sarcastic with a touch of dryness.

"Maybe below idiotic level." She deadpanned.

Harry now had a curious look on his face.

"Now that's just harsh, even for you." He stated with a little grin.

Neville watched on, amused, terribly used to it now after weeks of seeing the same bantering. It was especially funny when Harry's face visibly scrunched in thought as he considered a suitable comeback for Daphne's insults. But it was funny, since their witty comebacks became more amusing each time.

"What did Astoria want?" The girl suddenly demanded.

Of course, it was just like Daphne to instantly go back to the original topic before Harry's words got to her. Though, he, too, stared at the raven haired boy with questioning eyes, wanting to hear the answer as well. Neville knew that Astoria meant well but she could be highly overbearing at times and somewhat arrogant. The younger girl was also like her older sister in terms of not wanting to be proven wrong. She was raised to be that way. And he had to concede to Harry's point, she awfully reminded him of Malfoy too when they first met. But when he had broken through that rough exterior, there was a simply strong-willed and ambitious girl. If somewhat naïve.

Harry shrugged, suddenly looking annoyed and uncomfortable.

"She told me to be a thankful git since you're basically painted with a bull's eye in your own house." He grunted as he crossed his arms over his chest.

"Painted with a bull's eye?" Daphne questioned with a raised eyebrow, her honey-gold eyes slightly mocking.

The raven haired boy ran a hand through his messy locks.

"Never mind, it's a muggle reference." Harry amended as he gestured with his hand. "It means being a target of hostility." He clarified dryly.

"That bloody brat," Daphne spat out angrily. "I will not apologize, Potter, but my sister has the tendency to meddle with my affairs that never concerns her."

"I think she's only worried," Neville tried to put in.

But the raven haired girl just scoffed in obvious disbelief.

"Neville, we're talking about _my_ sister. She's a Slytherin for a reason. If she indeed somehow _implied_ that worry, then she could be on to something. I trust her to never betray me but I don't trust her when she's being nosy like this." Daphne explained to them patiently, born from years of really knowing what she was talking about.

Neville saw the familiar wrinkling of Harry's nose whenever he was annoyed. It was due to Daphne's adamant refusal to refer to the boy by his first name while calling Neville cordially with his. And the Longbottom never understood Daphne's distant if somewhat scathing attitude towards Harry–they certainly looked like that they were getting along until a slip-up would appear and break the image of friendship.

"You know, you talk about her as if she's more of an ally than a family." Harry suddenly pointed out blankly, his gaze immediately sharp.

"Of course, she's an ally. She's my sister. I'd never trust anyone to watch my back except for her. You may want to watch your mouth, Potter, your words might be misunderstood if you're not too careful." Daphne warned darkly, her eyes glinting icily.

And that was also one of the things that caused things to spiral down. Neville could see that Harry was certainly getting to know Daphne better and there were things about her that he either disapproved of or was confused about. And this was certainly a topic Harry apparently disapproved.

Harry was aiming to understand the girl since the boy knew that everyone had their own downsides regardless of what people thought of them.

The only problem was that Daphne always took it as an offense to her person.

"Take your own advice, Daphne, people might mistake it for something else." Harry smiled at her tightly, his eyes staring back at the scowling girl defiantly.

"It's _Greengrass_, you stupid prat. Meet me at the empty classroom by the second floor next to Professor Flitwick's office tomorrow evening. Don't be late, Potter." Her eyes told them that she would not be letting go of Harry's remark.

The girl stood up and stalked away.

Neville just stared at Harry and was about to open his mouth when he was cut off.

"I know, I know that I shouldn't have said that." Harry stated before Neville could state the obvious. "But Merlin, she's making it really difficult between us, Nev."

"Then why _did_ you?" Neville found himself asking.

"I just couldn't stand the way she talked about _family_," Harry admitted to him with a bitter smile. "I don't have the right to judge her since I don't have any idea about how she grew up. But, she says she sees Astoria as family but the way she says it…" He trailed off as he shook his head, unsure how to really express what he wanted to tell.

The subject was sore to both of them who mostly grew up without parents. But Harry had it worse with his muggle relatives who abhorred magic.

But he was glad that Harry was trying, since Neville understood Daphne's plight.

"Harry, you know that Daphne's a Slytherin, right?" He asked the boy carefully who nodded slowly in return. "And if those folks from her house really had it in for her, they would strike what they see as _her_ weakness. Their relationship wouldn't be the best but Daphne's always looked out for Astoria."

Green eyes widened in comprehension.

"You don't mean…"

Neville nodded.

Harry groaned to himself but the Longbottom knew that he was inwardly relieved.

"Ah hell," The raven haired boy muttered.

* * *

_"Get out, did I tell you that you can enter?"_

_Their uncle's voice stated coldly and she hid behind the corner for fear of bringing the man's attention to her. This was the first time she had seen him angry. And this was the first time she had seen her older sister so downtrodden. And she inwardly felt guilty about it. She was the one who told her sister that their uncle liked to be reminded of their mother–and told her about the family picture that hung in their mother's bedroom. Her five year old mind still couldn't comprehend that the _family_ portrait that she had pointed out was when their father was still part of them._

_Judging from the charred wood and canvas, her sister had tried to burn it._

_"What is that _thing_ doing in there!" Her sister cried out instead, obviously ignoring the question._

_"It's your mother's." The man answered tightly. "I never touched any of her possessions. So why did you do it?"_

_"That man is not my father!" Her sister insisted as she angrily wiped the tears. "Why do you still keep reminders of him inside this house? Isn't what he did to mom enough?"_

_Their uncle raised his hand as if to hit her sister but stopped._

_"Because whether I like it or not, Monica _loved_ that man." Uncle Harold said softly as he let his arm fall limp by his side. "And you're more of your father than I care to admit." The man suddenly uttered angrily, flicking his wand at the burned portrait and vanishing it, and walked away without a word._

_Daphne got this angry look on her face again that Astoria knew she always got when their parents were mentioned._

_When honey-gold eyes met her own brown ones, Daphne frowned._

_"It's so unfair." Her sister mumbled as she stared at Astoria's face intensely, before smiling at her somewhat sadly._

_That was the last time she saw her older sister smile._

* * *

Astoria glared at Potter as she saw him walk out of the Great Hall with Longbottom.

She knew that her sister could take care of herself but she didn't trust the filth of her house more so. The encounter between her sister and McNair, Rowle, and Yaxley had already reached her. It didn't take too long for her to deduce what it meant. She had made sure to rile the Potter boy enough so he would say the words to assure herself, that her sister wasn't alone. She had feared for Daphne's safety since words got back to Ferdinand Lestrange. And that bastard was dangerous–despite being arrogant, he _never_ played fair. She was giving Potter the head's up for the incoming trouble and an advantage for her sister.

In their short encounter, Astoria couldn't exactly fathom why her sister was associating with someone like Potter.

He was extremely _oblivious_. When she said oblivious, she meant he lacked knowledge. It was known within her house that he was brought up by muggles but surely, he _must_ have been at least educated in the magical world. Obviously, not. He didn't even know that his connection with her sister was the only thing protecting her from outright hostility–not only of his fame as the Boy-Who-Lived but also as the Heir of the Noble and Ancient House of Potter. And as much as the articles slandered his name, Astoria knew that people from the Wizardry World couldn't just forget his noble deed after the fear the previous dark lord had spread around.

Daphne could have just cut ties with him and everyone in her house could let it go and forget it ever occurred. Best left buried behind. But her sister, for some reason, still interacted with the boy. And she never gave her reasons _why_. From her short conversations with Daphne, she was bitter and somewhat aggravated by Potter. Though, for her part, it was still hard to read the older girl carefully.

So she would now just opt in watching Potter and maybe, he could give answers to her unanswered questions much better than her sister.

* * *

Daphne's eyes narrowed as she watched Potter get the hang of using the Accio charm wandlessly.

He seemed possibly delighted at being able to summon objects at his will. She had to admit, it was impressive, but she wouldn't say that to his face. But he had a hard time pouring power into some of the curses she had taught him, he lacked the true intent behind casting them. To at least _desire_ inflicting pain upon someone who deserved it. Some of those spells would be labelled as questionable and yet, Potter persevered to execute them.

For the most part of the practice, they had decided first to enhance their prowess in performing the spells themselves. Or at least, that was Potter's idea–no doubt, taken out of former Professor Lupin's book.

But Daphne had _enough_, she had brought Potter here to improve fighting. Not to learn spells that she could research on her own.

So without further ado, she pointed her wand at Potter who was still staring at his conjured chair.

"Incarcerous," She spoke quietly and watched in fascination as Potter tensed before hastily rolling out of the spell's way, barely. At least, Potter had some ingrained reflexes within his person and was quick on his feet.

Widened green eyes stared at her before narrowing angrily as he stood up.

"What the hell, Greengrass?" He spat out, his eyes suddenly flashing furiously and she had to fight off a smirk as this was the first time Potter had addressed her with her last name, just like she had told him numerous times.

She twirled her wand wordlessly and scowled at him.

"Potter, if you would care to remember, I asked you to be here to _spar_ so I could sharpen my duelling skills. Learning spells, I can do on my own just like you can. I'm tired of simply wasting magic and time so I'm taking the necessary initiative." She felt the need to explain at his livid expression, the same she had seen when he was still at odds with his former friends.

It was as if Daphne had breached his trust.

What did he expect? After _that_ remark? That she would just stand here and _let_ him direct the session while acting like nothing ever happened? She wanted some thrill and adrenaline, some blood so she could calm down. If possible, Potter's at the moment.

"So you'll point your wand at me while my back was turned?" He questioned harshly as he stared at her in disbelief, for some reason, he seemed absolutely angered by this.

"No, I am just acquiring vengeance for your words earlier." She responded irately with brutal honesty as her eyes narrowed at him dangerously.

It seemed that she had said the right thing as he calmed down, eyes now guilty as understanding lit them.

"Look, I shouldn't have said that when I didn't know a thing about it but _please_ warn me next time when you've decided to go for revenge, alright?" He asked sweetly as he combed a hand through his messy locks–a habit that she was starting to associate with nervousness or, as of now, agitation.

"Too right, you shouldn't," Daphne interjected and expertly ignored the rest, abhorring how people always _assumed_ just because that was what they saw.

He sighed and judging from his expression, it was as if he was telling himself that he should have expected this.

"Alright, let's just get this over with." He suddenly grinned as he shifted his stance, eyes now alert and hard as he readied himself.

She smirked darkly at him.

"You're funeral," Her smirk widened at his sudden wary look. She aimed her wand as she proceeded to show Potter no mercy. "Diffindo,"

* * *

They proceeded to enter the Great Hall with the other champions and their dates as they danced their way in for the opening of the Ball.

Cedric Diggory had gone with Cho Chang who was a year above Harry, Fleur Delacour went with Roger Davies, and Victor Krum, surprisingly enough, went with a stunning Hermione during that night. Harry smiled at Hermione as he danced with Daphne, relieved that his feet didn't fail him at the dance floor. Though, his left shoulder was still a bit sore after that nasty hex seared his entire left side. Madam Pomfrey was very furious about it. And it didn't help that Daphne wasn't the slightest apologetic about it, he guessed that she really was serious when trying to toast his hide for his words.

But it was worth it now as he looked at his date's appearance.

Daphne had opted for a strapless golden silk dress–something to help her manoeuvre her arm movements easier, according to her–that brought out the color of her eyes much vividly with elbow length black gloves and flat black sandals as she simply let her hair down. She also refused to wear make-up of any kind and preferred a simple pair of pearl earrings and a silver chained necklace instead. And in his eyes, she was still beautiful. If only she would stop glaring at him, it would have been much better.

"Potter, you can take your eyes away now." She hissed under her breath, literally holding him at arm's length.

"I can't if the sight is as beautiful," He smiled charmingly but she just snorted unhappily.

"And it would be appreciated if you could keep those comments to yourself." Her eyes narrowed further.

"You're such a charming young lady," He rolled his eyes good-naturedly at his own sarcastic comment. "Anyone ever told you that?"

"Keep going, Potter," Daphne smiled sweetly. "I might just hex that arrogant head of yours off of your shoulders." She purposely stepped on his foot as they made a turn, her expression a tad smug as she watched Harry's expression turn into strained pleasantness.

"Didn't you already try that three days ago?" He inquired innocently, his smile tight as he ignored his stinging toes.

She nodded solemnly as if disappointed.

"I _tried_ and you still have it, right?" She commented dryly.

They didn't notice it when other couples started joining the champions on the dance floor. Neville was grinning as he danced with Lisa Turpin. Ever since he had come to hang out with Harry in the library, he and the Ravenclaw got to spend some time together and have several debates about Herbology when he left his friend with the Slytherin. Her family owned a flower shop in London and Neville was ecstatic to learn more about it–it honestly fascinated him. Then there was Ron who was resignedly dancing with Parvati–whom Seamus managed to convince since the Irish boy was going with the girl's best friend, Lavender. Surprisingly, Astoria was there as well with Miles Bletchley.

And from the side, Ferdinand Lestrange–a tall pale boy with stormy gray eyes and shoulder length silky hair–watched Harry and Daphne intensely with his date, Catherina Ortiz, a seventh year Ravenclaw.

Neither of the two being watched noticed though.

"Of course, dear," He grinned at her mischievously as Daphne steadily glowered at him.

"Potter," She gritted out. "You're pushing your luck," She deliberately pinched his arm to prove a point and Harry almost yelped out loud.

"Whatever you say, _dear_," He emphasized with a wide forced smile as he expertly dodged Daphne's foot from stepping on his–he was ready for it this time since he anticipated another. Hopefully, it would be the last attempt.

Daphne glared at him balefully.

"Don't make me aim higher," She threatened him darkly and purposely raised her right foot as if to prove a point.

Harry's smile fell.

"Merlin, Daphne, can't we just have fun and… dance?" He finally asked with a grim sigh.

"It's Greengrass, and I thought you're already having fun? You certainly looked like it." She quipped back irately, rolling her eyes.

Harry paused and stared at her deeply as he leaned his face down, closer.

"But are _you_?" He questioned softly, his breath washing over her face.

She pursed her lips and raised her right hand to push his face away, gently shoving him away from her personal bubble.

"I will if you stop being such an arrogant bastard." She admitted reluctantly with a soft sigh.

"But you make it so easy," He teased as he grinned. "And I'm not an arrogant bastard as you put it," He added as an afterthought.

Daphne's eyebrow twitched.

With that, she shoved him further away from her person.

"I'm going to get some drinks," She growled at him before stalking away, extremely annoyed.

Leaving Harry standing there who sighed–he seemed to be doing that a lot lately in her presence. Really, why couldn't the girl just let go and relax? And it didn't help that he certainly had this talent for saying the wrong things. He had talked to Sirius about it–apparently, he inherited it from his father which didn't evidently charm his mother earlier in the long run. Sure, the banter was fun and good but then it would all crash down with the wrong word from either of them. But… he wasn't lying earlier when he said that Daphne made it easier–he would say something prodding here or there and she got riled up easily.

Yet, worse, it also didn't endear him to Daphne. If anything, the girl was growing more and more infuriated with him. So he wouldn't be actually surprised if she blew up at him one day and _really_ avoided him.

He really dreaded that day.

"Potter," A voice growled behind him and Harry just turned in time to see a pair of stormy gray eyes before a spell came hurtling his way.

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